


Who Said Life was Easy?

by hrhowling



Series: Who Said Life was Easy? [1]
Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arguments, Damn You Derek Landy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Family Issues, Feels, Fix-It, Fix-it fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm so sorry, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Non-binary character, Other, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, People Live Because I'm in Denial!, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, Self-Harm, Skulduggery is an idiot, Suicide Idealisation, These are not happy tags, Who Isn't?, but really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 13:49:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10572588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrhowling/pseuds/hrhowling
Summary: Ten years can either pass in the blink of an eye, or drag on for an eternity. It depends on who you ask.---A cleaner rewrite of the original by the same name, which can be found on fanfiction.net.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Writing the original was a blast, but that was two years ago, and looking back, I feel like I can write it better now. Updates will be sporadic, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

The mirror was broken ( _You broke it. Again_ ). There was blood on his hands, they hurt ( _of course they do. You punched a fucking mirror)_. His chest burned ( _breathe_ ), his head throbbed ( _for God's sake, BREATHE!_ ). His eyes stung and his face was wet ( _with tears. Why are you crying?_ ). He was shaking, he couldn't think straight and there were shadows creeping in from the corners of his vision ( _you need to pull yourself together_ ). His limbs felt like lead ( _pretty sure you’re cutting off your own circulation_ ) but the rest of him wanted so badly to _run_ , run from all of this ( _coward_ ), so that it wouldn’t _hurt_ , why did it hurt so much? Please, stop, stop, it wasn’t supposed to hurt any more-!

_Tap-tap-tap._

Everything froze. Time stood still. He didn’t dare blink or breathe for fear of breaking these precious few moments.

He could hear a muffled voice on the other side of the door. Soft, familiar, one he hadn’t heard in years since its owner had burst in screaming at him, demanding answers, with clenched fists and eyes that blazed with the agony of betrayal. They’d left him with a well-earned slap upside the head that had left him dizzy for hours.

The floodgates reopened, and he felt shaky sobs rattling his bruised, aching chest ( _still broken, still healing_ ). He felt so pathetic and awful.

“Can I come in?”

They were asking? Of course they were asking. A strangled noise managed to force itself out of his throat, and it must have translated to a ‘yes’ because the door was opening ( _you forgot to lock it again. These doors have locks, you know_ ). Gentle eyes looked in at him, a far cry from that one time ten years ago.

“What happened?” they asked, sitting cross-legged in front of him. Their tone was gentle and hardly surprised. It was no longer unfamiliar for him to be found curled up on the bathroom floor with bloody knuckles and tears streaming down his face. He didn’t know why they kept asking.

“M-mirror,” he gasped weakly, casting a glance to the now shattered bathroom cabinet door. Their eyes didn’t even flicker. “I-I… I don’t… know why…”

His throat tightened again and he choked, burying his head behind his arms.

“Okay,” they said simply. He flinched at the hand on his shoulder. “Okay. Can you get up?”

He didn’t know how to answer that. He was shaking, probably too much for him to be able to get up, but… but…

He nodded, but didn’t move. His limbs weren’t doing what he wanted them to do.

They said nothing, just waiting patiently for him to get up. When he finally found the strength to move, they offered him a hand and lifted him onto his feet, guiding him to the bed before getting the first-aid kit. Both of them were silent as they dabbed disinfectant onto his knuckles and stuck plasters over the cuts.

“Do you think I’m a waste of space?” he asked timidly, his voice rough.

They didn’t reply until all the medical supplies had been packed away.

“No,” was all they said.

“Really?”

“Really.”

That was all they said, but somehow, it was enough to send a wave of relief washing over him. His eyes were heating up again.

“I printed some more of my book earlier,” they said casually as they put the first aid kit back under the bed. “Would you like to read it?”

Perhaps a little too quickly, he nodded. They went and got the folder full of printed pages from their bag and gave it to him. Before long he was absorbed into the words, sat on the bed with a blanket over his shoulders. The only sounds were the scratching of a pen on paper and two individual sets of breathing.


	2. Chapter 1 - Veil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you know them enough to have their number in your contacts, I think you should answer.”
> 
> “I only have their name there so I know not to answer.”  
> ##  
> Or: Skulduggery needs to work on his temper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am _definitely_ liking this more than the original. Valkyrie and Skulduggery feel more in-character here.

Ten years after Darquesse and the Sanctuary War, and Valkyrie was doing paperwork.

Valkyrie wished to be doing _anything other_ than paperwork right now. Chasing criminals, combat training, even listening to Tipstaff witter on about manners and conduct would be better than _this_. At least with the latter, she could _pretend_ to have done something; with paperwork, she had to actually _do_ something.

“Don’t even think about running off to skive off paperwork,” Skulduggery said, snapping her out of a daydream about hitting something.

“I wasn’t going to,” Valkyrie protested.

“You were considering it. I could see it on your face.”

“Paperwork is _boring_.”

“It’s necessary.”

“Can’t I leave you to do all of it?” Valkyrie whined.

“If we did it like that, it would take twice as long for us to close a case.”

“You could handle all the paperwork and I can kick arse,” Valkyrie suggested hopefully. “After all, isn’t it time you retired?”

“…Valkyrie…” Skulduggery deadpanned. “I am a walking skeleton.”

“You’re four hundred and thirty years old, you should’ve retired _centuries_ ago.”

“For your information,” Skulduggery began, “I am four hundred and _forty_ years old, which is actually quite young for an Elemental in my line of work.” He scribbled something into the margin of a report. “Were I flesh and blood, I would have the appearance of a thirty-year-old, much like Ghastly, and do you see _him_ retiring?”

“I see him taking a lovely full-time desk job,” Valkyrie said, staring up at the ceiling.

“Valkyrie, you know as well as I do that if the situation ever called for it, he’d be just as capable of doing what we do.”

“Just retire already. You can be desk jockeys together and I can kick arse.”

“Alone?” Skulduggery queried. “You’d have no chance. The only reason you are still alive and kicking is because I’m here to graciously swoop in at the last minute and save your life using my vastly superior skills.”

“Well isn’t that just the world’s biggest lie!” Valkyrie scoffed. “I’ve saved your arse countless times already.”

“Name one.”

Valkyrie didn’t even skip a beat. “That time you were pinned down by a guy with an assault rifle, seven months ago. _I_ was the one who saved your coccyx _in style_.”

Skulduggery paused. “Fair point. I’m not retiring, though.”

“Damnit.”

Skulduggery chuckled and returned to the case file he was working on. “The sooner we get this paperwork done, the sooner we can get back to punching people and making the other detectives look like idiots.”

“Good,” Valkyrie finalised, picking up her case file and a pen.

Skulduggery’s phone chose that moment to start ringing. He glanced at the number, but to Valkyrie’s surprise, he didn’t answer it.

“Aren’t you going to..?” Valkyrie prompted, nodding towards the still-buzzing phone.

“It’s no one important,” Skulduggery dismissed, not looking away from the case file.

“‘Clarity Veil’?” Valkyrie read off the screen. “If you know them enough to have their number in your contacts, I think you should answer.”

“I only have their name there so I know not to answer.”

Valkyrie snorted. “Rude.”

The phone stopped buzzing, and Skulduggery relaxed. Valkyrie frowned, but kept her mouth shut. She’d learned when prying would get her nowhere and only land her with a pissed off skeleton.

She’d just finished the case file she’d been looking at when Ghastly walked in with his phone to his ear and a disapproving look on his face.

“He’s right here,” Ghastly muttered into the receiver. Skulduggery visibly hunched over in annoyance. The Elder plastered a fake smile on his face and held out the phone to him. “It’s Clarity. Apparently you didn’t answer when they called earlier.”

Skulduggery sighed and took the phone. “Clarity,” he said tersely. He definitely wasn’t happy, and neither was Clarity, judging from what little Valkyrie could hear.

“My phone ran out of charge,” Skulduggery said, voice smooth. Valkyrie heard something that sounded like “that’s a lie” from the other end of the line. “Would I lie to you?”

_“Yes.”_

Skulduggery was silent for a moment under the expectant gaze of Ghastly, and so was the phone.

“What do you want, Clarity?” Skulduggery eventually asked. “I see… for how long? … No… Because I said so… Never say that again… Ask Ghastly, he-… Dexter, then… Saracen? … Have you ever heard of a hotel? … What?”

Valkyrie glanced up at Skulduggery, nervous. The skeleton had gone tense, anger rolling off him in slow waves. Ghastly had a look on his face as if he’d predicted this.

“You _WHAT_?!” Skulduggery roared, rising to his feet and knocking over his chair. “When the _fuck_ did-?! … It has _everything_ to do with me! … Of course it fucking does! … Because whether you like it or not, _I_ am responsible for you!”

_“Oh, so_ now _you decide to give a shit!_ ” screeched another voice through the line. _“A little late, don’t you think?!”_

Skulduggery spluttered in a rare loss for words, and Valkyrie looked away, suddenly very interested in another file.

“Clarity,” Skulduggery began slowly. “You-.” He was interrupted again by a sharp, androgynous voice. “You-.”

_“Give the phone back to Ghastly!”_ the voice demanded.

Without another word, Skulduggery handed the phone over to Ghastly, who put it to his ear.

“Clarity,” Ghastly greeted, a forced lightness to his voice. He turned and walked away. “Of course I can.”

Valkyrie returned her attention to Skulduggery. The detective was hunched over his desk, pouring over another file. “Who’s Clarity?” she wanted to ask, but Skulduggery clearly wasn’t in the mood for questions of any sort.

She’d ask later.

* * *

 Valkyrie didn’t ask until they’d sorted through another five over-complicated forms.

“Who’s Clarity?”

Skulduggery paused, head tilted away from Valkyrie.

“They’re a lot of things,” he said simply. “It depends on who you ask.”

Valkyrie hesitated. “Who… who are they to you?”

Silence.

“Nearly two centuries ago, Serpine tried his hand at playing God. The result was a hybrid of various deadly creatures, designed with the sole purpose of being used as a weapon of war.”

His voice was haunted, almost distant. Valkyrie was afraid to make a sound and break his reverie.

“Serpine wasn’t satisfied with what he got? It was… too human for his liking. So what does he do?”

Valkyrie wanted so much to crack a joke, but she bit her tongue and kept quiet.

“He locks it in a cage.”

Oh…

“We didn’t know anything about it,” Skulduggery continued. “The Dead men and I found them a while later, completely by accident. They’d been carted around from place to place, subjected to immense cruelty because their handler thought that with the proper… training… they could be used for their intended purpose.”

“That’s disgusting,” Valkyrie growled. “I’m assuming you took them in?”

“You assumed… somewhat correctly. They were kept in the Sanctuary to be integrated into society. It took a while, but by the time the war ended, they’d been deemed a fit member of society, and… well, now they do what they want. Mostly traveling. At one point they acquired fake credentials and took a university course in something. They’ve done it several times, actually.”

“Do you know what they’re made of?” Valkyrie asked.

“Vampire, werewolf-.”

“ _Werewolf_?”

“Yes, werewolf. Along with wendigo and banshee, just to name a few. Then… Serpine himself and… and me…”

Valkyrie tilted her head in surprise.

“Synecdoche can explain it better, she’s the one in charge of their medical care now. Something about DNA samples from when I was alive.”

“Oh. So… they’re almost like your child, then? In a biological sense, that is.”

It was a while before Skulduggery answered. “Purely in a biological sense,” he confirmed. “The others are closer to them than I ever was.”

“I noticed,” Valkyrie remarked. “Can I ask why?”

“You just did.”

“Well, would you mind telling me, then?”

“Mm…”

Patiently, Valkyrie waited for an answer.

“They… brought back too many memories. I grew bitter, and… they picked up on it. I didn’t try to fix it, and… well…”

“Have you tried making amends?”

“No.”

“Oh. What did they say to piss you off so much earlier?”

A moody silence was her only answer. Until,

“They took custody over Erskine Ravel. He’s no longer in prison.”

* * *

 Clarity sighed in frustration as they scrolled through the angry text messages that Skulduggery had sent the day before. Many of them were repetitive, asking the same questions over and over as if he believed they hadn’t understood him the first ten times. Others were threats, or demands that they sent Erskine back to Shelainn.”

No way in hell was that going to happen.

“Is everything okay?”

They looked up at Erskine, sat opposite them at the small table in the RV. He looked exhausted, and had started picking at the fresh plasters on his right hand.

“Skulduggery’s just being an arse,” Clarity said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“He knows now?”

“Yea.”

“I thought so.”

A frown settled on Clarity’s features. Erskine had been incredibly shaken by Clarity and Skulduggery’s… ‘conversation’ the day before. He was still unnerved if the twitching of his hands was anything to go by.

“Ghastly said he’d look for a place we could stay,” Clarity said, changing the subject.

“That was nice of him,” Erskine murmured. “What about the RV?”

“I’m lending it to a friend. We’ll meet him in Calais.”

“Okay.”

His hands were shaking, and the bags under his eyes were darker than they had been yesterday.

“Did you sleep much last night?”

He considered lying, telling them that yes, he had slept. But the last time he had done that, he’d had a breakdown and passed out after a week without sleep.

“No,” he admitted quietly. He couldn’t stop the flinch that wracked his body when Clarity stood up and walked over to his side of the table. A gentle hand on his shoulder asked for silent permission to come closer, which he granted by placing his own hand against theirs. They sat down next to him and drew him into a hug, long fingers carding through his hair.

He still wasn’t used to such gentle contact. For a good while, he remained tense in Clarity’s embrace, until he finally relaxed and allowed tears he hadn’t realised he’d been holding back to fall, stinging his eyes and forcing pained sobs from his throat.

“I’m scared…” he whimpered.

Clarity sighed. “I know you are. And that's fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if this is a thing in real life. Let's just say it's a wizard thing :P
> 
> Also, let me know if the format for the phone conversation was alright, or if it's hard to follow and needs work.


	3. Chapter 2 - Harbouring Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I… I’m… I-I’m fine, Elder Bespoke,” he stammered, drawing a look of surprise from Ghastly and a muted frown from Clarity.
> 
> “Right,” Ghastly began. “Umm… let’s get… home, I suppose.”
> 
> ##
> 
> Ravel and Veil set foot in Ireland. It becomes clear that something is... not right...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally two chapters, but I figured they'd be better as one.
> 
> Also I'm going to try and keep a weekly update schedule now. Every Saturday/Sunday. Hopefully I manage to stick with it.

The scowl on Valkyrie’s face was easily one that could halt an entire army. Perhaps even the ocean she was glaring at. 

“Geez, if looks could kill.” 

Valkyrie didn’t even glance at Tanith, walking up next to her. They were at Dublin port, waiting for Clarity Veil to arrive with Ravel. Or rather, the Dead Men were; they were just tagging along. 

“I’m hoping that if I look angry enough, the ocean will sink the boat Ravel is on,” Valkyrie growled. 

The grin on Tanith’s face was quickly replaced with a scowl of her own. 

“Remind me why this ‘Clarity Veil’ person thought it was a good idea to take custody of him?” she grumbled. 

“No idea.” 

“Well, then.” 

They both proceeded to stare in silence with faces of absolute thunder. No one went near them. 

Eventually, a ferry could be seen rolling in through the early morning fog. 

“Right on time,” Valkyrie muttered, glaring at the ship. She could just make out small figures on the upper deck. 

“How much are you willing to bet that Ravel’s smug arse is up there?” Tanith said bitterly. 

“Thirty euros says I can get away with shooting him,” Valkyrie sneered. 

“I’ll double that just for attempting it.” 

In the end, Valkyrie decided not to risk such a stunt. She could punch Ravel when they were out of the public eye. When they went back inside to find the Dead Men, they found them lurking in the corner of the Arrivals lobby. Skulduggery’s façade had a beaky nose, angry grey eyes and short red hair. Bushy eyebrows scowled at anyone who go too close, and none of them seemed particularly concerned with finding anyone. 

“Tanith,” Ghastly called, waving the two women over. “How are you, sweetie?” 

Tanith smiled, draping her arms around Ghastly’s neck. “I’m good, babe.” 

“Good to hear.” The smile on Ghastly’s face became strained. “Look… try not to be too hard on Clarity, okay? They’re a good person, just… sometimes they make choices that only make sense to themselves at first.” 

Tanith frowned. “We’ll see when they get here,” she said simply. 

“Thank you.” 

Saracen’s head suddenly shot up like a bloodhound on high alert. 

“There they are,” he announced, pointing to the last two stragglers in the crowd. 

Valkyrie couldn’t help but gape. Striding towards them was a frighteningly tall individual, pale as the grave and icy blue eyes trained on them behind sleek black glasses. Dressed in a black jacket, jeans, and turtleneck, heavy boots thudded against the tiled floor in a fierce, steady rhythm. They were slim in build, with narrow shoulders and long limbs, with sharply defined facial features framed by choppy, jet black hair. 

“Oi! Clary!” Dexter shouted, catching the stranger’s attention. A grin alighted on their face, showing off neat white teeth. “There you are! How’s my favourite nibling?” 

Clarity Veil glanced over their shoulder before quickening their pace, eagerness putting a spring in their step. 

Valkyrie, after having gotten over the shock of Clarity’s height, ignored the cheerful buzz of the reunion before her, and looked behind them to see Erskine Ravel lurking in the background. 

She felt her fist clench at the sight of him. He should not be allowed to walk so freely, custodian or no.

* * *

Skulduggery had expected Ravel to be standing proud and smug, with his head held high as he strode towards them. Instead, the man had his eyes on the ground, shoulders hunched in an attempt to make himself smaller. Wrapped up in a thick ski jacket and navy turtleneck, his presence didn’t project itself like it used to, and he bore a ragged appearance, in desperate need of a shave and a haircut. 

Scowling, Skulduggery looked away in disgust and turned to look over at Clarity. They hadn’t changed all that much. The thin layer of stubble that covered their jawline was new, but that was about it. They still had the same smile, and greeted the men they called family with clasped hands and foreheads bumping against each other. It was a warm, intimate act, born from years of trust that he wasn’t privy to. 

After greeting their family, Clarity drew themselves back up to their full height and turned to face Valkyrie and Tanith. Something about their eyes seemed… off… fake… Valkyrie couldn’t put her finger on it. 

“And to whom do I owe the pleasure of meeting?” they enquired, almost innocently. But Valkyrie could sense the wary suspicion in their voice. Both women were tense as they exchanged terse introductions with the cryptid, whose posture was straight-backed and rigid. There was no trust. 

“You’re not… quite what I expected,” Valkyrie murmured. 

“I never am,” was all Clarity said before turning back to Ghastly. “How’ve you been?” 

Ghastly smiled, his expression deeply fond. “I’ve been great, thank you. How’ve you been holding up these past few weeks?” 

To Skulduggery’s bewilderment, the question was aimed towards Ravel. But he’d zoned out, staring at the floor with a blank expression, and he didn’t respond until Clarity cautiously nudged his shoulder, snapping him out of his… trance. Ghastly had to ask him the question for a second time. 

“I… I’m… I-I’m fine, Elder Bespoke,” he stammered, drawing a look of surprise from Ghastly and a muted frown from Clarity. 

“Right,” Ghastly began. “Umm… let’s get… home, I suppose.” 

Dexter and Saracen both immediately got into a scuffle over who would take Clarity’s bag, which continued even after Anton took it for them. Once that was over with, everyone left the building and made their way to the car park, where Clarity and Ravel got into Ghastly’s van with Tanith, Dexter and Saracen. Anton got into his own car and left for the hotel, whilst Valkyrie and Skulduggery got into the Bentley. They all drove off into an awkward silence. 

Ghastly’s van had played host to a number of awkward silences over the years. There was that time he’d had to drive a very drunk Saracen and Dexter home after a bar fight, and that other time when the Bentley had been completely smashed once again and he’d offered to drive Valkyrie and Skulduggery back to the Sanctuary. Something had happened, and it had been a very tense silence for all of them. 

This had to be one of the worst. Tanith was next to him in the passenger seat, arms crossed and staring out onto the road. Behind him, Erskine was listlessly gazing at nothing, with Clarity reading something on their phone next to him. In the back of the van, Saracen and Dexter were both glowering at the back of Erskine’s head, their murderous expressions not boding well. 

“So what did you get up to in Europe?” Ghastly asked, wincing when Erskine jolted into alertness with panic in his eyes and pain twisting his features. 

“We mostly just stayed in Austria,” Clarity said, switching off their phone. “Roamer let me use her cabin there.” 

“That’s nice,” Ghastly nodded. “Who’s Roamer again?” 

“Elemental. Helped me with my documents that one time sixty years ago. She works in the US.” 

“Oh, her. Are you two still..?” 

“We were never involved to begin with. We just said that to get her ex off her back. She’s engaged to this nice guy called Klóra Dyr now.” 

“That’s good to hear. You going to her wedding, if they do get hitched?” 

“She said she’d like me to walk her down the aisle if it happened.” 

“Aaw, that’s sweet!” Dexter interjected, grinning over at them. No one noticed Erskine flinching away from him. “Roamer’s a sweetie.” 

“So what about you?” Clarity asked. “Anything interesting happen recently?” 

“Tipstaff ran right through China’s office door last week. He was freaking out about something and didn’t realise how fast he was going. Sent it right off its hinges.” 

A short, strangled laugh burst out from Erskine, drawing a look of surprise from Clarity and Ghastly. Tanith, Dexter and Saracen just scowled at him, and he immediately closed up, shrinking in on himself. 

“Sounds like something Tipstaff would do,” he said quietly. 

The van descended into silence once more. Glancing sideways, Ghastly saw Skulduggery’s Bentley overtaking them, and Valkyrie pulling faces through the window. He knew he should have been the mature one, being over four-hundred years old, but he stuck his tongue out at her anyway.

* * *

Throughout the drive to Roarhaven, Saracen had noticed a number of things about Ravel. He curled in on himself and clutched his chest because of seven broken ribs, all in various stages of healing. There was an ugly scar just above the small of his back, the result of being… burned… over and over… It hurt to breathe, and he suffered frequent headaches, but Saracen was unaware of the cause. His short burst of laughter earlier had hurt him, he knew that. He hadn’t known he’d sound so sickly. 

When they drove into Roarhaven city, there was no pride in his eyes. Saracen only saw a dull melancholy that made the bags under his eyes look heavier as he gazed up at the parseing buildings. 

They parked outside the Sanctuary and went inside. Clarity drew a number of stares, but some were directed at Erskine, curious. 

The man kept his eyes lowered to the ground and the lower half of his face hidden beneath the collar of his turtleneck, sticking close to Clarity’s side. He was nervous and on edge; shying away from anyone who got within three feet of him. No one seemed to recognise him yet. 'Yet' being the key word. 

The group was soon joined by Skulduggery and Valkyrie, who had stopped to buy donuts upon the latter's insistence that she was in desperate need of them. 

"You dun' come 'ere ovden, do you?" Valkyrie mumbled through a mouthful of donut. 

"I come here every few years for a medical check-up," Clarity explained, apparently unbothered by Ravel, who was now clinging onto their jacket sleeve like a child. "I'm not normally this public about it." 

"Walking through a hallway is your idea of public?" Valkyrie queried. 

"Strangers irritate me." 

"Do... _I_  irritate you?" 

"Not really." 

"You're annoying. Have a donut," Valkyrie said, holding up the box of Krispy Kreme donuts. She then offered donuts to everyone else, and slapped Dexter's hand away when he tried swiping a second one. 

She didn't offer one to Ravel, and Clarity, to her surprise, tore theirs in half and handed one to him. He glanced from one to the other, seemingly not knowing how to respond, before taking it with a mumbled 'thank you'. 

Ghastly lead them to the Elders' lounge, which was guarded by a pair of Cleavers stationed outside the door. 

Two scythes blocked Clarity's way, but the expressionless visors weren't directed at them. Rather, the cowering figure behind. 

"Stand down," Ghastly ordered, earning looks from everyone. "He's not a threat." 

Silent, the Cleavers raised their scythes, and Clarity walked past with Ravel clutching their hand. Everyone was staring at them. 

The Elders' Lounge was full of potted plants and plush couches. A window covered the entire wall facing the door, looking out onto the street outside. In one corner was a table with a coffee machine and snacks, and there was a television on one wall over a fake fireplace. Someone had been in there already, if the tower of used coffee mugs on the snack table was anything to go by. 

For some reason, Saracen frowned. "Why didn't we go to the-?" 

"No," Ghastly interrupted, an unimpressed scowl on his features. "We are _not_ going to the Graveyard." 

"But it's so much nicer!" 

"I'm not humouring Mesmer with that joke. I'll start using it when she lets us change the plaque." 

"You're no fun," Saracen pouted. By now, pretty much everyone else had sat down. Tanith and Dexter were getting themselves coffee. 

"Want some coffee, Clary?" Dexter asked. Clarity just shook their head. 

Once everyone was settled, they all settled into easy conversation. Saracen was sprawled out on Dexter's lap, taking up an entire couch as he did so. Skulduggery assumed command of the armchair in the corner closest to the door, and Valkyrie, Tanith and Ghastly took another couch whilst Clarity and Erskine took the one by the window. Erskine was pressed up against Clarity's side, eyes glazed over and staring into the empty space between his knees. He went completely ignored. He didn't speak a word, or even make a sound. Jokes seemed to go unnoticed until you saw the weak chuckles that he was attempting to hold back. He looked exhausted and sickly in comparison to Clarity, who, despite their seemingly calm demeanour, held themselves like a pillar of stone next to him. 

At some point, Clarity's focus turned to Ghastly. 

"Did you manage to find a place that would take us?" They asked. "Or did our... situation keep putting people off?" 

Ghastly winced. "You're right. Sorry about that." 

Clarity's expression didn't change. "It's fine. I can ask Jakobi and Mark if we can stay with them." 

"Where do they live?" 

"Baltimore." 

"Clarity, that's all the way on the other side of the country. Four hours' drive." 

"Oh." 

An uncomfortable silence descended upon them, and it was only broken when Valkyrie spoke. 

"You can stay with me." 

Clarity's eyes immediately snapped towards her, and that was when she realised that their glasses were gone. Their eyes weren't blue like China's anymore. The sclera were a deep, inky black, and the irises were rings of violet amethyst that burned into her like hot pokers. 

"In Edgely Manor," Clarity said. Not asking, but stating. "Are you sure that's okay?" 

Valkyrie nodded. "I've already got Saracen freeloading off me." 

"Hey!" Saracen protested. Valkyrie ignored him. 

"Two extra people won't be much of a bother," she continued. 

Clarity stared blankly at them for a little while, their mouth a thin line. "Thank you," they eventually said. "That'll save us a lot of trouble." 

Valkyrie shrugged. "No problem." 

And honestly? It wouldn't have been. If it weren't for the fact that Erskine also had to stay. That was the main reason she was making this offer; to keep an eye on him. Speaking of which, she shot him a glance. He was leaning against the arm of the sofa, looking dazed and half asleep. There was something off about him, but she couldn't pinpoint what exactly.

She'd have to keep an especially close eye on him.


	4. Chapter 3 - The Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Stay away from my family. If you even _look_ at them, then I'll rip you to shreds. Got it?"  
>  \---  
> There... seem to be a few issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm super happy with this chapter, and my friend was really impressed when she read it. Hopefully you guys like it too.
> 
> Lots of angst and comfort, yay!

Clarity hadn't been to Edgely manor in twenty years. Last time they'd been there, Gordon had just published another book and was getting drunk celebrating his success with the Dead Men. Clarity had only tagged along because Saracen had asked them to, and they'd spent most of the night exploring the woods after the group of drunk men became too loud for their liking. If they remembered correctly, that had been the time Erskine had wandered outside and fallen into a pond, and had been too drunk to realise that his fingers were turning blue. 

It hadn’t changed much since then. The walls had been repainted recently, and there was the distinct smell of dog, but that was where the differences ended. The wrought-iron gates were still the same, as were the surrounding trees and the burble of a stream hidden amongst them. 

Their feet crunched against gravel as Valkyrie and Skulduggery lead them to the front door. Erskine was trailing behind them, his feet dragging. 

“Feeling alright?” they asked quietly, falling back to walk alongside him. 

“Peachy,” Erskine mumbled impassively, not looking up from the ground at his feet. Neither of them said another word. 

Once everyone was inside, they were greeted by the loud, frantic barks of a dog and a young girl yelling “Denny, get back here!” Clarity tensed and backed into the door as a big grey husky rushed down the hallway towards Valkyrie and Skulduggery. The Skeleton Detective grumbled and backed away to leave Valkyrie in the dog’s bounding path. Valkyrie was nearly knocked off her feet as the mass of fur cannoned into her legs. 

“Oof! Denny!” Valkyrie reprimanded, trying to stop the dog from jumping up and licking her. “Denny, down. No barking!” 

“You never mentioned a dog,” Clarity said. 

“Uh, yeah. Is that a problem?” Valkyrie asked. 

“Dogs don’t like me,” was all they said. 

“Oh. I’ve… got two dogs; Xena and Denny. Xena’s getting old, though, and Denny’s normally very friendly. Just let me know if they give you trouble.” She straightened up to look at the young girl who had rushed in after Denny. She looked a lot like Valkyrie, save for her bright blue eyes. “Hey sis.” 

Alice Edgely grinned up at her. “Hi Val. Hey Skul.” Skulduggery tilted his head in her direction. “Who’s this?” she asked, gaze turned towards Clarity and Erskine. The latter wasn’t looking at her. 

“This is Clarity, they’re staying here for a while,” Valkyrie introduced, gesturing towards the Cryptid. “And that there is Ravel. We don’t talk to him.” 

Alice frowned. “Uh, okay… Hi?” 

Clarity met her eyes and nodded. Erskine averted his gaze to the floor, swaying slightly on his feet. Alice’s frown deepened in confusion. 

“Don’t take it personally,” Skulduggery dismissed as he walked past, dropping his hat on Alice’s head. “Where are your parents, young lady?” 

“That’s a very good question,” Valkyrie said, leading everyone into the kitchen. “Where’s Mum and Dad?” 

If Valkyrie noticed the sharp look she received from Clarity, she didn’t say anything. 

“You’re out of pasta,” Alice replied, sitting down at the table and scratching a jittery Denny behind the ears. An old German Shepherd padded over from a bed in the corner and started demanding attention too. “They went to get more, and maybe some other stuff too. Hey Xena.” 

“Okay.” 

“You’re having people over?” Clarity questioned, frowning slightly. 

“My parents,” Valkyrie said. “You can join us for dinner if you want.” 

“Okay. So, where can we put our things?” 

“Oh, yeah. Just follow me.” 

Valkyrie lead Clarity upstairs to where the guest bedrooms were located, ignoring the fact that Ravel was trailing along behind. She took them to a guest room that had two single beds in it and an en suite bathroom, with pale green walls and a cream carpet. Not her ideal colour scheme, but she’d never felt the need to decorate. 

“Thank you,” Clarity said, looking about the room with interest. 

Valkyrie shrugged it off. “No problem. If you need to wash any clothes, then the laundry room is down the hall. There isn’t any shampoo or anything in the bathroom, though.” 

“I can get my own. Don’t worry about it.” 

Nodding, Valkyrie left it at that and let them get settled. 

Clarity and Erskine were silent as the former put down their bag and started unpacking. 

“She's only letting us stay here to keep an eye on me,” Erskine said quietly, sitting down on one of the beds. 

“I know,” Clarity said. “But it’s only temporary. I can find somewhere else.” 

“How long do you plan on staying in Ireland?” 

“A while.” 

Erskine didn’t know how to answer that.  

* * *

When Clarity came back downstairs, Skulduggery had gone home. They'd taken off their jacket and Erskine wasn't with them. "Sleeping,” was all they said when Valkyrie asked. She bit back the snide remark of ‘sleeping easy?’ on her tongue and went back to chopping carrots. Alice was still fussing over Xena and Denny. 

"Skulduggery never talked about you," Alice said to Clarity. 

"I'm not really someone people talk about," Clarity said, standing in the corner and taking a little plastic cube covered in buttons out of their jeans pocket. They fiddled with it as they spoke. "Also, Skulduggery doesn't like me." 

"Why not?" 

Clarity shrugged, eyes on the fidget toy. "Not a lot of people like me. I... don't talk to people very well. People get offended." 

"Did you insult his hat?" Alice chuckled. 

"A lot." 

Suddenly, Denny lifted his head from Alice's lap, ears twitching. A glance told Valkyrie that Clarity was staring through the kitchen door and into the landing. 

"Someone's just pulled into the driveway," Clarity stated. "Your parents?" 

Not saying anything, Valkyrie put down the kitchen knife and went to the front door, opening it to find her parents getting out of the car with plastic bags full of food. 

"Hi sweetie!" Melissa called, walking towards her daughter with a smile. Desmond was still fumbling with the car keys, trying to lock it. "How was your day?" 

"It was good," Valkyrie said, hugging her mum and taking one of the bags from her. She saw a bag of cookies stuffed next to a packet of spaghetti. "I hope you've got a lot of pasta. We might be having people joining us for dinner." 

"Who's joining us?" Desmond asked, his voice suddenly very high pitched. "It had better not be Beryl." 

"Just a friend of Skulduggery's," Valkyrie assured him as they walked in. Clarity was waiting in the hallway. 

"I wouldn't say friends," they said, and Desmond's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Melissa took a step back. 

"Hi," Desmond squeaked, craning his neck to look at Clarity and almost falling flat on his rear. 

The Cryptid tilted their head at him. "Hello." 

Melissa was the one who stepped forward with a smile, whilst her husband gawked up at his daughter's houseguest. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she greeted, extending a hand. "I'm Valkyrie's mum, Melissa. Don't mind Desmond, he stares a lot." 

"Clarity Veil," Clarity said, staring at the offered hand for a moment before taking it and giving it a single shake. 

"They're staying here for a little while," Valkyrie explained. 

"I trust our daughter's being hospitable," Melissa smiled, on her way to the kitchen. 

"She is." 

"I'm glad to hear it," Melissa said, putting the shopping onto the table and kissing Alice on the forehead. "How are you doing, sweetie?" 

"I'm good, Mum," Alice said. "We're still having spaghetti for dinner, right?" 

"Yep, just got to make it." 

"Do you need help?" Clarity asked, having walked in just behind Desmond and Valkyrie. 

"Oh, we'll be fine. You're a guest, after all." 

"Are you sure?" 

"It's okay. We can handle it tonight." 

"Okay." 

* * *

"You've never mentioned Clarity before," Melissa mused whilst she and Valkyrie were preparing dinner. 

"I didn't know about them until a week ago," Valkyrie said, chopping tomatoes. 

Melissa raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" 

"They're..." Valkyrie paused, searching for something to say. "They've got history. A lot of stuff happened to them." 

"Stuff?" 

"I don't have a right to talk about it. It's rather personal." 

"I see. What does she –  I mean _they_ , sorry _–_ do for a living?" 

"I'm not sure exactly. They travel a lot, and they said something about a book, but... that's about it. Honestly, they're only here so that I can keep an eye on their..." Valkyrie paused, looking for the right word. "Charge," she decided, her lip curling in distaste. 

"Excuse me?" 

Valkyrie's jaw tightened. "Remember Erskine Ravel?" 

"The name rings a bell," Melissa said. "But I can't really remember. Care to remind me?" 

"He's the one who started the war ten years ago," Valkyrie explained. "He was in prison until Clarity got him out and became his Keeper. It's called reformatory custody; it's a sorcerer thing." 

Melissa went tense. "Him?" 

Valkyrie nodded. "I looked into it some more; there's a lot of terms to it. Mainly if he's caught doing anything, he goes straight back to the gaol to rot." 

"I see," Melissa said tersely. "Keep him away from Alice." 

"You don't have to tell me twice." 

* * *

Just before dinner, Valkyrie cornered Ravel in Gordon's study. Her uncle's Echo was dormant, and Clarity was downstairs. The man had his arms around his chest and his eyes to the floor. His face was blank and his shoulders were tense. There was an empty dullness to his eyes that Valkyrie couldn't decipher, but she honestly wasn't in the mood to try and figure him out. All she wanted was to make a point. 

"I-I don't... w-want any t-trouble," Ravel stuttered, hands shaking. 

Valkyrie scowled at him, rage blazing in her eyes. "You'd better not," she growled, making him flinch. Her scowl deepened. "Stay away from my family. If you even _look_ at them, then I'll rip you to shreds. Got it?" 

He hunched over, his breathing shaky. "G-got it," he whispered hoarsely. "I-I wont... I won't-." 

"I'd love _nothing more_ than to drag your arse back to Shelainn," Valkyrie snapped, and Ravel's eyes shot up to look at her, wide with terror. He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. "But Clarity got you out for a reason, and I'm not going to risk getting my face ripped off." 

Ravel whimpered and took a step away from her, gasping when his back hit the bookshelf. 

"But don't think that means you're off the hook, either," Valkyrie continued, stepping forward. "If you put a _hair_ out of line, then it's a one-way ticket behind bars. I'll make sure of it." 

He was trembling now, to the point where Valkyrie thought his legs would give out. He was blinking rapidly, shaking his head. "I won't-." 

"So if you want to stay out of there, I suggest you follow a few rules," Valkyrie interrupted. "Stay away from my family. Don't leave this house alone, because I will _know_. Stay away from Ghastly and Anton. And if I hear you've swiped any fucking knives I'll castrate you." 

"Don't hurt me," Ravel sobbed, curling in on himself further. Valkyrie realised that there were tears in his eyes. "Please, I don't... I-I won't do anything, I promise." 

"You'd better not," Valkyrie snarled, taking another step towards him so that she was looming over his cowering form. She raised a hand shoved his chest, getting ready to say something else, but-. 

Ravel's eyes widened in panic, and with a frantic yell of "DON'T TOUCH ME!", he pushed at the air with as much force as he could muster. Valkyrie was sent flying into the opposite wall, grunting at the feeling of the air rushing from her lungs. It took her a moment to regain her senses, and when she did, he was looking at her with horror. 

"Oh, god," he choked, up against the wall and pressing a hand over his mouth. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" 

"Fuck off," Valkyrie croaked, rising to her feet. "And _stay away_." 

She got up and stomped out of the room, leaving Ravel to stare at the empty space where she'd just been, wide-eyed and petrified. Slowly, he slid down the wall of books, curling up until he was on the floor, knees brought up to his chest and hands covering his face. 

Before long, tears were flowing down his cheeks and his chest was shaking with barely-contained sobs. Oh, god, he'd fucked up. He'd fucked up, Valkyrie was going to report him, and he was going to be locked up again. He hadn't even lasted _two months_. Clarity was going to be so pissed off at him when they found out what he'd done. Going and _attacking_ a Sanctuary officer. And not just any Sanctuary officer; none other than _Detective Valkyrie Cain_ , partner to Skulduggery Pleasant and a deadly force in her own right. 

Skulduggery... There was no way in hell that Pleasant would let something like this slide. If he found out, Erskine would be dead before morning. 

 _Maybe that won't be so bad..._  

He shoved his head between his knees and dug his nails into the back of his head, silently begging to break the skin. His temples throbbed violently with the force of his racing thoughts, and pain pulsed across his ribcage, all in time with his pounding heart. 

"Erskine?" 

Gasping, he looked up to find Clarity stood over him. The frown on their features was muted, and their eyes were unreadable, as usual. 

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, looking away. 

"What happened?" Clarity asked, sitting down in front of him. 

"I-I..." Erskine struggled for words. "V-Valkyrie, I... I don't know what happened, I..." 

"Breathe," Clarity said softly, placing a hand on his knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Try to slow down." 

Shaking, Erskine gasped for breath as Clarity sat with him in silence. His mind was moving too fast for him to keep up, jumping from one thing to another, and none of it was enjoyable. The dull pain in his chest had sharpened into a burning sensation and his head felt like it was slowly being crushed. 

"You need anything?" Clarity asked after a moment. 

"I don't... I don't know," Erskine sniffled, going tense when he felt Clarity's hand move to his shoulder. How was he supposed to answer that? What he needed was to be put back behind bars, where he couldn't hurt anyone. He... he felt shaky, and the world was out of focus. It felt like pins and needles, only the needles were being broken inside his skin and he couldn't shake them out, why was this-? 

"Breathe," Clarity reminded him, gently rubbing his shoulder. "Take your time." 

Eventually, he managed to sputter out an answer. 

"H-hold me?" he begged, looking desperately up at them. 

Clarity didn't say anything, just wrapped their arms around him and hugged him tightly. Their entire being surrounded him, and he managed to focus on the rhythm of their breathing through he rush of fear assaulting his mind. Holding onto it, he fought to match his breathing with theirs, clutching onto their shoulders for support. 

Eventually, everything slowed down, and he slumped against Clarity’s front; trembling. His throat felt raw and his eyes throbbed in time with his head. Everything _ached_ , and there was a heavy fog in his mind that wouldn't go away. Clarity had started running their fingers through his hair at some point, like a mother with their child. 

 _How fitting. When you've_ _just been blubbering like a baby._  

“How are you feeling?” Clarity asked, slowly teasing a knot out of his hair. God, if only they could smooth out the mess his life had become as easily as that. 

“Trampled,” Erskine croaked, curling up against Clarity so that he was practically in their lap. A heavy sigh rushed out of his chest. “I'm sorry.” 

“What for?” 

Erskine felt a cold knot settling in his gut, making him squirm. “I… I attacked Valkyrie,” he whispered. 

“I know.” 

The words made him tense. “What?” 

“I know what you did. Valkyrie said. Why'd you do it?” 

He didn't answer for a moment. “She… she was telling me to stay away from her family,” he said. “And… she… she touched me.” 

Clarity’s hand slowed, but they didn't say anything. 

Erskine managed to force a laugh, but it was dry and absolutely dripped with self-loathing. “Wasn't even-. It was just my chest, and…” His throat felt tight again. “I lashed out,” he whispered, hiding his face in Clarity’s chest. “I'm sorry…” 

“It's okay. You were scared.” 

“I'm going to get in trouble.” 

“You won't. I'll talk to Valkyrie.” 

“I… Are you going to tell her about… about what you..?” 

“Do you want me to?” 

“… Not really.” 

“Then I won't. It's not my place.” 

A wave of relief washed over him. “Thank you.” 

“You're welcome.” There was a beat of silence, and then, “Do you want to go back to the room?” 

“Yes please,” was the hushed reply. 

“Okay. Need help getting up?”

“Is that okay?”

“More than okay.”

Erskine nodded, and allowed Clarity to lift him up onto his feet.

“You're still very light,” they observed, walking out of the study with him, a hand between his shoulders guiding him.

“I'm trying to eat more,” Erskine replied.

“Try not to get sick.”

“Okay. Aren't you eating dinner with..?”

“I'm not hungry.”

Erskine didn't reply as Clarity lead him into the bedroom and waited for him to lie down onto the bed, then sat down next to him. After a moment, they shifted so that their back was against the headrest, and let Erskine curl up against them.

"I've got to arrange my appointment with Synecdoche," Clarity said. "You want me to arrange one for you? See how your ribs are healing?"

"You can say it, you know," Erskine murmured, resting his head on Clarity's shoulder. "I'm a mess."

"Do you want to see someone about it, though?" Clarity asked, looking down at him. "It wouldn't be any trouble." 

It took a while for Erskine to think of an answer. "I guess I need the physical, right?" 

"I suppose," Clarity mused. "Synecdoche mentioned something about anaemia when she looked at you." 

"Mmm. Thanks." 

"You want me to call Synecdoche?" 

"Is that okay?” 

“It's fine.” 

* * *

Later that evening, after the Edgleys had gone home, Saracen arrived with wine and pizza. Clarity heard his car pulling into the driveway, but didn't look up from the book they were reading. Erskine was asleep in the bed next to them, head on their chest and arms wrapped around them. 

“Clary!!” he called, the volume of his voice reaching the guest room. “I've got dinner! It's your favourite!!” 

That made Clarity look up from their book. Marking their page, they set it aside and gave Erskine a nudge. The man twitched and murmured something that Clarity didn't catch, so they carefully eased out of his hold and draped the covers from the other bed over him before going downstairs, where Saracen was balancing seven boxes of pizza in one hand holding a large bottle of white wine in the other. The smell of meat and barbecue made their mouth water. 

“That's a lot of pizza,” Clarity observed, taking the wine from Saracen’s hand. 

“You've got an appetite,” Saracen shrugged, heading for the kitchen and putting the pizza down on the table. “Dig in.” 

Clarity didn't need telling twice. With the eagerness of a child on Christmas Day, they pulled open the first box and tore out a slice, devouring nearly all of it within moments before they stopped. 

“Shumding fe madder?” Saracen enquired through a mouthful of meat feast pizza. 

Clarity shrugged and swallowed. "I... went a little bit too quickly," they said. 

"Sho?" 

Again, Clarity shrugged. "I'm not sure." 

"Eh. You wanna watch a movie? Valk's got one of those TV sticks, with Netflix and Amazon." 

"Sounds good," Clarity said, picking up several boxes. 

"Where _is_ Valkyrie, actually?" Saracen asked as he grabbed the wine and two glasses. 

"Working upstairs." 

"Think we should drag her down here?" 

Clarity hesitated. "Not really." 

"Okay." 

They both went into the living room, put the pizza on the coffee table and set about figuring out how to use the Amazon stick, which wasn't plugged in. 

"I'm pretty sure you put it here," Saracen insisted, pointing to a port in the side of the screen. 

"Wrong size," Clarity said, still looking for a suitable port. "Maybe it's this one." 

"Give it a go," Saracen said, handing them the stick. Clarity took it an inserted it into the port. "Well, look at that. It fits." 

"How do we use it?" 

Saracen pursed his lips together. "Umm... I'm going to ask Valkyrie." 

"Okay.” 


	5. Chapter 4 - Shattered Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The lines on Saracen’s brow deepened. “What happened, Erskine?” he asked, his voice soft. “What was so awful that Clarity refused to let them keep you there?”_
> 
> _He knew Clarity had seen something. Erskine just wasn't telling him what._  
>  ###  
> Saracen learns a few things. It leads him to question himself and everything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, now might be a good time to mention that I am shamelessly horrible to every character I come across. Even the ones I call my babies.
> 
> Warnings for talk of abuse and rape here. It's not explicit, but it's something of an emotional punch to the gut in my opinion.

Saracen knew that Ravel was awake and out of bed at the ungodly hour of three o'clock in the morning. Knew that he was afraid of being caught sneaking downstairs to the kitchen and would go running back to Clarity if he realised that Saracen was following him. Therefore, he waited for him to get there before getting up and tiptoeing down the stairs.

Hiding just outside the door, Saracen watched as Erskine searched through the cupboards for something. That something turned out to be the glasses, and with shaking hands he grabbed the largest one he could find and filled it with water.

It slipped out of his hand, exploding in a shower of glass and water, and Erskine cursed under his breath. Wide-eyed, he stared down at the shards lying in a puddle of water, his mind reeling, train of thought derailing and bursting into flames as he struggled to keep his breathing under control. Fuck, he had to clean this up. Where did Valkyrie keep the towels? Or tissues, either worked.

Saracen kept quiet, finding morbid satisfaction in the man’s panic. At least, until he started walking on the glass as he rushed about trying to find something to clean up the mess. The edges cut into his feet and blood smeared across the floor, but he only seemed concerned with cleaning the mess rather than finding a first aid kit. In fact, he seemed to be making a _point_ of stepping into it.

That was when Saracen finally stepped in. Ravel didn’t even seem to notice.

“What are you doing?”

 _That_ got his attention. Biting back a scream, Ravel whipped round to face Saracen, terror in his eyes. They stared at each other for a while as Erskine gasped for breath. Eventually, he managed to regain his composure, arms around his chest and eyes lowered to the ground.

“I… I dropped the glass, I’m… cleaning it up,” he mumbled hesitantly.

“And tracking blood all over the place,” Saracen stated, unimpressed.

“I-I can c-clean that up,” Ravel insisted. “Please, I… i-it was an accident.”

He looked so pathetic, cowering like a dog fearing punishment. Saracen was reminded of a Staffordshire Bull Terrier he’d rescued some sixty years ago. She’d been easily frightened, and he’d almost been bitten by her several times in the beginning. People had told him to put her down because she was dangerous, but in reality, she’d just been scared. It had taken a while, but she’d learned to trust him eventually.

“Go sit down,” Saracen said. “I know where the first aid kit is.”

He expected a joke of some sort about his power, but Ravel just stayed silent and did as he was told. A trail of blood followed him. Frowning, Saracen started picking up the bigger pieces of glass and put them in the bin before getting the first aid kit out from under the sink. In icy silence, he knelt down in front of Ravel and got out disinfectant, cotton balls and bandages.

“Feet up,” Saracen ordered, and Erskine immediately complied. However, the moment Saracen grabbed his ankle, he flinched. “Hold still,” was all Saracen said. He soaked a cotton ball in disinfectant and started wiping at the cuts on Erskine’s feet. Mercifully, he held still.

“Thank you,” Erskine murmured when his feet were finally wrapped in clean white bandages. Saracen just grunted and put away the first aid kit. “I can clean up the rest.”

“Tissues are up there,” Saracen said, gesturing to one of the cupboards. Erskine nodded and grabbed them, skirting around the glass this time. Saracen waited and watched, just in case he did something stupid. When he was done, both men just stood in awkward silence, waiting for the other to say or do something.

After a few moments, Saracen broke the silence.

“Why did they get you out?” he asked, making Erskine look up at him in surprise.

“I, um…” he mumbled, wringing his hands together and biting his lip. “See, I… I…”

“I might not know everything,” Saracen continued. “But I know Clarity. If they didn't think you deserved to be in prison, they'd have taken custody over you a long time ago.”

He tried to meet Erskine’s eyes, but the man was refusing to look at him. He kept fidgeting; picking at the plasters on his fingers and rubbing his neck; a habit he'd always had. He was still wearing the sweater from earlier, and Saracen noticed the way he kept tugging the sleeves up.

The lines on Saracen’s brow deepened. “What happened, Erskine?” he asked, his voice soft. “What was so awful that Clarity refused to let them keep you there?”

He knew Clarity had seen something. Erskine just wasn't telling him what.

By now, Erskine was pressed up against the counter, shaking and blinking back tears. One hand clung onto the kitchen counter and the other kept tugging at his hair, rubbing his face, his neck, his eyes, not looking at him. All Saracen seemed to be doing was making things worse.

"I-I..." Erskine stuttered, struggling for words. "I... They... I, um..."

To his surprise, Saracen couldn't help but feel pity for the man as he poked and prodded at him for answers. Every attempt just made him less and less composed he desperately tried to form a coherent answer to Saracen's questions, each one more disjointed than the last.

"Erskine, calm down," Saracen said, taking a step forward and raising a hand.

"Please," Erskine begged, shrinking away from him. "Please don't hurt me."

At this, Saracen frowned. "Why would I do that?"

There were tears now. Streaming down Erskine's cheeks as his breathing shuddered and broke. "Th-that... th-that's what happened when I... d-did something wr-wrong. Th-they'd hit me, and... and C-Clarity saw it."

He cut off with a gasp, hand over his mouth as he fought to stifle the impending sobs. Saracen felt a cold weight in his throat. He knew this already, but...

"That's not all they did," Saracen stated. "Come on, Ravel. A few punches wouldn't leave you like _this_ , and it wouldn't convince Clarity to get you out, either."

Erskine shook his head. "I-it... It wouldn't..."

"Then what happened?" Saracen pressed, relieved to be finally making progress.

The man just shook his head harder, sniffling. “I-I… Just… It's disgusting, they…”

"Do you need a minute?" Saracen asked, sensing a complete breakdown. Erskine nodded and took a moment to breathe deeply with his hands over his mouth. “Better?”

Erskine didn't say anything. His breath was still hitching every time he tried to speak, and he kept twitching about like a nervous colt. By now, Saracen was considering leaving the conversation there, because Erskine seemed less and less likely to give him a solid answer. Give him a break.

Ravel mumbled something under his breath, just as Saracen was about to suggest to him that he went back to bed.

"What was that?" he asked.

Biting his lip, Erskine tried again. Louder, this time.

“They… they s-sodomised me.”

Saracen’s gut dropped and his face went slack. “ _No_.”

Shrinking back, Erskine dropped his gaze back to the floor. Saracen was still reeling from the shock, spluttering and waving his hands around as he fumbled for words.

“Why didn't you _say_ anything?” he finally implored. “Erskine, I bloody visited. _Clarity_ visited. Anton, Ghastly, we… You could've _told_ us!”

“You wouldn't have done anything,” Erskine said bitterly.

Saracen opened his mouth to protest, something made him stop short. _Would_ he have done anything? He would have, right? He had to. This was _rape_ they were talking about. It was _wrong_ ; one of the most disgusting atrocities a person could ever commit, and it had been happening to Erskine for _years_. Saracen wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy.

"When did it start?" he asked quietly.

A shrug and a tired shake of the head was all Erskine could manage at first. "I... I helped put a lot of those people in there," he said hoarsely. "And so many of the... the guards, they... they hated me for what I'd done. At f-first, it was... just insults, a few ambushes in the hallways, and... getting shoved about, s-sometimes. Then it just... progressed, and... I'm not sure when, but..." The next breath he took was shaky. "I think it was a few... a few months, m-maybe more... when it started, I don't know anymore."

The floodgates reopened, and Saracen could see the last of Erskine's unsteady resolve collapse in slow motion. The sobs came unhindered, but all he could do was watch as the man before him, once so strong and dependable, completely broke down. All he could think about was whether or not he would've gotten Erskine out, had he found out. He'd visited Shelainn, a few times over the past decade. Unlike Ghastly and Anton, he never spoke to the man; just watched him from security cameras. Saracen should have _noticed_ the way Erskine's gait had changed from stubborn strides to nervously tiptoeing his way through the throng of criminals surrounding him; the way he hadn't done anything to protest how everyone – even the guards – would shove him around at every opportunity; and how he'd flinch away from everyone who came too close.

_You did notice. You just didn't care._

Would he have done something? He had to, right? _No one_ deserved to be put through that for so long. No one deserved that at all, not even _once_.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, shaking his head. "I knew something was wrong, but... I didn't do anything." He looked up at Erskine, who was a shaking, sobbing _mess_. "I did absolutely nothing, and this is what happened."

He wasn't prepared for Erskine to look up at him, his face twisted into a tear-stained scowl. Cold fire blazed in his eyes, and Saracen felt sick when he realised just how _familiar_ it was. Fighting in the war, arguing with the Supreme Council, preaching his ideals ten years ago, it had always been there after coming back from the Children of the Spider. It spoke of loathing and betrayal and a sickening desire for revenge. _How_ had he not noticed?

"I fucking deserved it," Erskine spat, still trembling. "It serves me fucking. _Right_ , so don't you _dare_ try to apologise for what _I did_!"

Saracen couldn't find it in himself to argue.

"Do you know how _long_ I spent _lying_ to all of you?" Erskine continued, his voice getting progressively louder. "Do you know how _little_ I cared? Did you know that... that when I fucking _stabbed Ghastly in the back_ , _I didn't care_?! I felt nothing but anger, and it felt _good_! I fucking _hated_ you all!" He took a step forward, his fists clenched by his sides. "For _years_ , I lied, and cheated, and _I didn't care_! I turned my back on all of you when you needed me the most! I ran from Darquesse because I was a selfish _coward_ , and I deserve _everything_ I got!”

He was gasping for breath by this point, and the scowl on his face had slowly morphed into a look of desperate despair. The fire in his eyes was sputtering; dying, even. How often had Saracen looked into Erskine’s eyes to see a dead emptiness in them? When was the last time he'd truly _looked_ and _seen_? Had he really been ignoring the signs all this time?

“I-I sh-shouldn't be here,” Erskine sobbed, his rage completely spent and leaving a broken shell. “C-Clarity m-made a mistake.”

 _Now_ Saracen protested.

“You're wrong,” he said firmly, cautiously raising a hand towards the man. He had to pick his words carefully. Or not, he actually had no idea. “You _never_ deserved that. What happened to you was disgusting and unjust, and it shouldn't have been allowed to even begin. Clarity made the right choice in taking custody over you. The best choice, actually.” A heavy sigh escaped him. “I could see that something was wrong. I should've done something.”

“S-stop it,” Erskine begged. “Please, just stop.”

“I want to help,” Saracen said, stepping forward and placing his hands on Erskine’s shoulders. The man flinched, but didn't try to run. “I don't hate you. I'm tired of being angry. I'm tired of trying to _be_ angry.”

Erskine was trembling like a leaf, shaking his head fervently. “D-don't…”

“I forgive you,” Saracen said, before Erskine could say anything else. “You're far from perfect, but you've been punished too much for what you did. You deserve a chance to redeem yourself.”

“H-how the hell am I supposed to do that?” Erskine demanded. “I can't _be_ forgiven! And you're an idiot if you think otherwise.”

“Well, idiocy can become genius, so I'll stick to forgiving you.”

“Would you just-?”

“I'm being serious. Please, just… just trust me, okay? I know it doesn't make sense, but… Please.”

Erskine didn't say anything, and Saracen took it as a sign to leave the subject at that.

“You should probably get some sleep,” he suggested, stepping back.

“Can’t sleep,” Erskine murmured. “You… you go ahead, I’ll… I’ll just… wait for morning.”

The frown was back on Saracen’s face. “You sure?”

“Sure, I… I’ll be fine.”

Suddenly, a gurgling growl filled the air between them both, and Erskine’s eyes widened in shock as he doubled over slightly and clutched at his stomach.

“When was the last time you ate?” Saracen asked incredulously.

“I slept through dinner,” Erskine admitted quietly. “Didn’t have much before that, either.”

“Right,” Saracen said. “Well, good thing I bought seven extra-large pizzas. Even Clarity and I combined couldn’t eat all those at once.” He managed a smile, strained though it was. “Get yourself a drink, I’ll get the pizza.”

Erskine nodded and did as he was told whilst Saracen got the pizza from the fridge.

“You want me to put it in the microwave?” he asked.

“No, it’s fine,” Erskine said.

“Right. Come on, let’s go put something on the television. Any suggestions?”

“N… Not really. Didn’t exactly have access to current media.”

“Oh. Uh, we’ll find something then.”

“Okay.”

They both went to the living room and sat down on the couch, at opposite ends. Saracen grabbed the TV remote and started browsing through Netflix. Neither of them said anything, and the only sounds was the clicking of the remote and Erskine quietly eating a slice of pizza. Stuck in an uncertain silence, they didn’t even look at each other. Eventually, Saracen settled on the first episode of _‘Bill Nye Saves the World’_ and put the remote down.

“Is he still alive?” Erskine asked quietly, about five minutes in.

“Uh, yeah, he is,” Saracen replied. “Doing pretty well for someone coming on seventy.”

“That’s good. What about global warming? Is that getting any better?”

“Slowly. This episode is from twenty-seventeen, uh… I think he retouches this topic in a few seasons, and by then it's been a few years.”

“Mmm.”

They fell silent again, and kept their attention to the screen. At least until an old grey German Shepherd padded in and rested her head against the sofa by Erskine’s feet.

“Hey, Xena,” Saracen greeted, patting the sofa invitingly. “Come on, girl, you can do it.”

With a huff, Xena managed to pull herself up onto the sofa and shuffle towards Erskine until she was half lying on top of him. He looked down at her for a moment before tearing up a piece of pizza crust and offering it to her. “Valkyrie lets you have this, right?”

Either Xena was allowed it, or she didn’t really care, because she took it without a moment’s hesitation. Erskine’s mouth twitched into a slight smile, and he carefully scratched her behind the ears. Saracen managed his own smile, and looked back at the screen.

He had to have gotten through at least the first episode before he drifted off to sleep to the sound of Erskine nattering away in Irish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember being super proud of myself when I wrote this part of the original. I like the progress I made with this one. Feels more realistic and has a heavier impact. My friend said she could picture the characters really well when I asked her to read it, and she doesn't even know anything about Skulduggery Pleasant besides my overzealous rambles about it.


	6. Chapter 5 - Patient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stay away from Erskine,” Clarity snarled. “I won’t tell you again. And call off your lapdog. If she harasses him again, I’ll press charges.” 
> 
> “I am no one’s lapdog!” Valkyrie shouted.  
> ###  
> Skulduggery can't seem to get along with anyone right now. Except Valkyrie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this one's a tiny bit shorter than other chapters, but I think it's alright regardless.
> 
> I was worried I wouldn't be able to post this because I'm away this weekend and I didn't know if I had access to wifi here, but it's pretty good!

Valkyrie had gotten used to finding Saracen asleep on the couch with Netflix still asking him if he wanted to keep watching whatever he’d decided to binge on that night. He had trouble sleeping, and she wasn’t going to judge him for it. 

What surprised her was finding _Ravel_ had joined him, and Saracen wasn’t trying to strangle him. For a moment, she thought that Ravel had poisoned him, before dismissing the notion. He wasn’t that stupid. Trying to forget he existed, she went to the kitchen for breakfast.

* * *

A few days later, after dodging a small explosion in a warehouse, Skulduggery was waiting for Valkyrie to finish getting her arm stitched up, when he saw Ravel lurking in the corner of the infirmary by Synecdoche’s office. He was wearing another turtleneck sweater, and the collar of his jacket was turned up. His shoulders were hunched and his eyes were fixed on the floor. The circles beneath them looked darker than usual. 

With a quick glance at Valkyrie and the doctor who was with her, Skulduggery strode over. The moment Ravel noticed him, he went tense and backed against the wall. Skulduggery stopped right in front of him and crossed his arms. 

“Ravel,” Skulduggery snipped, a clear edge to his voice. 

“Detective,” Ravel said quietly, his eyes flickering from one place to another. “Um…” 

“Where’s Clarity?” Skulduggery enquired. 

“Getting a check-up,” Erskine said, his eyes darting to the office door. “Should be out soon.” 

“I see. Valkyrie says you’ve been quiet.” 

“Just keeping out of the way, like she asked. I-is she okay? I saw-.” 

“That’s none of your business,” Skulduggery cut in, and Ravel quickly looked at the floor. 

“I don’t… I don’t want any trouble,” he murmured. 

“You’d better not,” Skulduggery growled. 

“I-I don’t want to fight,” Ravel stammered, his voice strained. “Please, I… I’m not here because of… an agenda, okay?” 

“I find that very hard to believe.” 

“I’m just here for a physical,” Ravel said. He looked exhausted, had Skulduggery ever seen him with such dark circles under his eyes? “That’s the only reason I’m here, so please… don’t… waste your time on me.” 

There was a forced steadiness to his breathing. There had been since this conversation had started. Skulduggery was about to interrogate him some more, but was cut off when Synecdoche’s door opened, and Clarity stepped out. They had their glasses on, the fake blue of their eyes failing to pierce the air like their natural violet. Doctor Synecdoche came out right behind them. 

“Mister Ravel, are you ready for your exam?” Synecdoche asked, her tone clipped and formal. Ravel nodded and stepped away from Skulduggery. “Right this way.” 

They both disappeared into the office, and Clarity rounded on Skulduggery, an unreadable expression on their face. 

“What did you do?” they asked, voice dangerously level. 

* * *

The moment Synecdoche’s office door closed, Erskine felt ropes wrapping tight around his chest. Taking a deep breath, he stood by the door and looked around, trying to get his bearings. Synecdoche’s office looked more like a GP room, with a bed for patients, a sterile-looking sink and cupboards labelled with different sorts of medical equipment. The computer on the desk was clearly new, and next to it were neat stacks of paperwork and an empty mug. 

“So,” Synecdoche began absently, picking up a tablet and flicking through files until she found what she was looking for. “The last time you saw me, you were underweight, malnourished, several broken ribs, heavy bruising and scarring…” 

Erskine tried not to listen too closely. 

“If you'd kindly sit down, we can get this done quickly,” Synecdoche said, gesturing towards the bed. Erskine didn’t hesitate to do as he was asked, sitting down on it. “Thank you. Would you be comfortable taking off your jacket and jumper? I need to be able to hear your heartbeat.” 

Erskine tensed and wrapped his arms around himself. “I-I…” 

“Take your time,” Synecdoche assured him. “I’m not in a rush today.” 

“R-right,” Erskine nodded, fiddling with the hem of his turtleneck. “Um, do… do you need... another blood test?” 

“No, not today. You’re extremely lucky, you know. Our magic may reduce the likelihood of us contracting STDs, or any other diseases, but Shelainn is still a high-risk environment.” 

“I see.” 

“Although, if it would help to ease your mind, I’ll take another blood sample and conduct another test.” 

“Thank you,” Erskine murmured. He was quiet for a moment before quickly taking off his jacket and sweater. Now he was in just a short-sleeved t-shirt, his arms and neck exposed to the open air and Synecdoche’s calculating, judgemental stare. Shivering, he ran his hands along his arms and frowned at the feeling of all the scars there. 

“I’m afraid you’ll need to take your shirt off, too,” Synecdoche said. 

“Oh,” Erskine choked, his voice breaking. “Uh…” 

“Relax,” Synecdoche told him. “Take a deep breath. Take it off when you’re ready.” 

Nodding, Erskine took a deep breath and pulled off the shirt, shivering when he felt the air clawing at his spine. Synecdoche noticed the way he wrapped his arms around himself and set aside the tablet. 

“Take deep breaths,” she instructed gently. Nodding, Erskine did as he was told. The shaking lessened. “Good.” She removed the stethoscope from around her neck and placed the chestpiece against Erskine’s sternum. “Another deep breath. Hold it this time. Good. Let it out.” 

The exam was over fairly quickly, and Erskine managed to get through it without any incident, although his hands were shaking and his head felt tight. 

“Good job,” Synecdoche said, earning a look of surprise from Erskine. “You held up rather well. Now, do you still want that blood test?” 

Erskine was just about to reach for his shirt when Synecdoche asked. “Is… that okay?” he asked quietly. 

“Certainly. You’ll just have to leave the shirt off for a little longer.” 

“R-right.” 

Synecdoche got out a needle and by the time she was approaching him with it, Erskine had zoned out enough that when she inserted it into his arm and taken the blood, he didn’t seem to notice. 

“Done,” Synecdoche announced, snapping him out of his daze. She put the syringe in a box and turned back to him. He was hastily pulling on his clothes. “I’ll email Mx Veil with the results.” 

“Thank you,” Erskine said, his voice muffled by his sweater. “Umm, should I…?” 

Synecdoche raised an eyebrow. “What was that?” 

The lines on Erskine’s features deepened. “Why are you doing this for me?” he asked softly. “I’ve not done anything to deserve your sympathy, yet you’re still helping me.” 

“It’s my job,” was all Synecdoche said. 

“But the blood test…” 

“You’re not the only patient who’s asked for a completely unnecessary blood test because you’re scared you’ve caught HIV. If you want special treatment, then turn time back to eleven years ago, because now, you are just another patient.” 

Erskine couldn’t find it in himself to protest. He felt exhausted by this one short procedure, which he’d been through countless times in the past without any trouble until… _this_. That seemed to be the case for everything these days. Things as simple as getting out of bed for a shower left him feeling drained, and he didn’t even have the willpower to feel upset about it. All he seemed to do anymore was wallow in a black pit of despair. 

“I’m going to attach some recommendations for psychiatrists to the test results,” Synecdoche said, interrupting his thoughts. “I can’t force you to see any of them, but I strongly recommend it. Mx Veil shouldn’t be the only person you rely on.” 

“I see.” 

“Good. Now, that’s it for today,” Synecdoche snipped. “Nothing is out of order, your ribs are healing well. Come see me if there are any complications. Good day.” 

Without another word, Erskine stood up and allowed himself to be escorted out of the office. When Synecdoche closed the door behind him, he found that people were staring at him. No, not at him. At Clarity and Skulduggery. They were glaring at each other, fists clenched and shoulders tense. Clarity seemed on the verge of growling. Had they been fighting, just now? Christ on a bike, why did this always happen when they were left alone together? 

“Stay away from Erskine,” Clarity snarled. “I won’t tell you again. And call off your lapdog. If she harasses him again, I’ll press charges.” 

“I am no one’s lapdog!” Valkyrie shouted from the hospital bed she was sat on. 

Clarity didn’t even look at her. With one final snort of contempt, they straightened up and looked at Erskine. “That was quick,” they said simply. 

Erskine nodded. “It… it was…” 

“Alright. Let’s go.” 

Without another word, they turned and walked out, and Erskine quickly followed. He could feel the stares burning holes into his back. 

* * *

“That _child_ is in _corrigible_!” Skulduggery snarled, his hands grasping at empty air in front of him as if he were trying to throttle someone. He and Valkyrie were back in their office, looking at a new case. “It’s always one thing after another, but _this_ crosses the line!” 

Valkyrie said nothing as he angrily paced up and down their office, near growling in outrage. Was that a family trait? Growling like animals when well and truly pissed off? 

“Ravel did something,” Skulduggery said darkly. “He's probably been manipulating them from the beginning, because no one in their right mind would just _forgive_ what he'd done after just ten years and suddenly take custody over him. The next time I see him, I'm going to strangle him.” 

“Okay,” Valkyrie said. She wasn't really paying attention anymore, instead being more interested in a string of vampire disappearances that they'd been asked to look into. 

“He's a no good bastard,” Skulduggery continued. 

“Yup.” 

“The last thing he deserves is to be running free.” 

“I know.” 

“You're not even listening, are you?” 

“Eh.” 

Grumbling, Skulduggery sat down and leaned back into his chair. “They called me a hypocrite.” 

“I was there. I heard everything you two said.” 

“And they had to make a scene, didn't they?” 

“You were the one who started yelling, actually.” 

Skulduggery gave her a Look. “You're supposed to be on my side,” he said. 

Valkyrie frowned and bit her lip, staying silent. Skulduggery sighed. 

“Is this about the lap dog comment?” he asked. 

“And a gold star for the skeleton,” Valkyrie drawled sarcastically. 

“Just ignore them. They're like that sometimes; saying things to irritate people.” 

“Well, it worked.” 

“Don't let it bother you too much. If anyone says anything, then you have free reign to start a fight.” 

“You always know how to make me feel better.” 

“Brilliant. Now that you're done brooding, let's get on with this case.” 

“Yeah, I don't get it,” Valkyrie said, dropping the file onto the desk. “It's not the first time vampires have disappeared in Roarhaven. Shouldn't one of the other detectives be handling this?” 

“It's the first time they've not turned up dead or halfway across the city after a few nights. Some of these vampires have been missing for months.” 

“Maybe the anti-vamp brigade is just getting better at hiding the bodies.” 

“Anti-vamp brigade?” 

“What else should I call it then? Vampire Murder Club?” 

“Please stop.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a 'meh' ending, but I wasn't sure where else to leave it. Enjoy the mild humour anyway.


	7. Chapter 6 - Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I fell..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for self-harm in this one. I'm sorry.

Somehow, Valkyrie managed to half forget that Ravel existed, even after only a week. She supposed it made sense. He hardly left the guest room, and even when he did, he was usually skulking out of sight behind Clarity. Skulduggery was convinced he was up to something, and Valkyrie couldn't help but agree. 

It was early afternoon. Valkyrie was feeding the dogs when Denny started growling at the kitchen door. She shot up to her feet to find Clarity standing there, wearing a jacket and boots. 

“Hey,” Valkyrie said warily, a hand on Denny’s collar. 

Clarity tilted their head towards her. “I'm going out to see Anton,” they said. “Erskine’s staying here; I got clearance for it.” 

Valkyrie’s jaw tightened. “Right. And you want me to keep an eye on him.” 

“Only for an hour. Saracen should be back by then.” 

“Okay then. Well, don't let me keep you.” 

Clarity just nodded and turned to leave, but stopped when they were halfway out of the door. 

“I’m sorry I called you a lapdog,” they said, before walking out. Valkyrie was left staring at empty space until the front door clicked shut. 

* * *

“I don't get it,” Valkyrie muttered, taking a sip from her coffee. She was in her uncle’s study, and her uncle’s Echo was sat in his chair, watching her pensively with his fingers steepled together. He thought he looked very wise, and Valkyrie couldn't help but agree. “The other day they called me a lapdog, and they only apologise today? And it sounded like they were only doing it out of necessity.” 

“What did they say, exactly?” Gordon asked. 

“Just ‘I’m sorry I called you a lapdog.’ That's it. Like they didn't even feel bad about it.” 

“Nah, they were being genuine. If they hadn't felt bad, they wouldn't have bothered. They're a bit like Skulduggery in that sense, only less emotionally constipated.” 

Valkyrie snorted into her coffee, and Gordon felt himself smiling. 

“Valkyrie, sweetheart,” he began, resting a hand over her knee. “Try to be patient with them. I know they're a confusing character, but it's hardly their fault. They grew up isolated and abused for the first fifteen years of their life, and after that, learned all their social skills from a bunch of war-torn sorcerers who had no time to police their behaviour for the benefit of a child who wasn't even human. The Dead Men did the best they could, but none of them had any idea what they were doing, not even Skulduggery. They've got a fierce pack mentality, and to them, you're encroaching on their family.” 

“The Dead Men,” Valkyrie said. Gordon nodded. 

“The fact that they're apologising for such a small offence as calling you a lapdog means they're making an effort to accept you. Those men are all they have; it's not as easy for them to shun one of their own for any transgressions as it would be for us.” 

“You're talking about Ravel.” 

“I am. You know, I've been talking to him recently.” 

Valkyrie went tense. “What?” 

“Well, talking _at_ him, really. He doesn't talk much anymore, does he?” 

“No, he doesn't.” 

A frown settled onto Gordon’s face. “There always was something off about him.” 

“What?” 

Gordon shrugged. “He looked at me differently. It wasn’t pity or anything like that, just… confused. Questioning. Like he didn’t know what to make of me.” 

Valkyrie didn’t say anything. 

“There were times when he’d ask me why I never tried to take up magic. First time I told him it wasn’t for me, he looked at me like I’d grown a second head.” Gordon lifted his gaze to the ceiling thoughtfully. “I think I understand why now.” 

“You never found it weird?” 

“No. He hid his true feelings very well. How else do you think he lasted so long without completely snapping?” 

“He frequently murdered Warlocks,” Valkyrie deadpanned. 

“Ah. I suppose that had something to do with it.” 

Sighing, Valkyrie rolled her eyes. Her phone chose that moment to buzz, and when she turned it on, she found several texts from Saracen. 

 ** _Got caught up in something. Going to be late._**  

 ** _Check on Erskine_** ** _pls_** ** _?_**  

 ** _Sorry :|_**  

Grumbling, Valkyrie texted a quick ‘sure’ and stood up. 

“Something wrong?” Gordon asked. 

“Saracen’s going to be late coming back. He wants me to make sure Ravel hasn’t tried to assassinate anyone.” 

“Okay. Please don’t kill him.” 

“I’ll try not to.” 

With that, Valkyrie left the study and went to the guest bedroom where Clarity and Ravel resided. It was… unnervingly quiet from where she stood outside the door. 

 _Probably just sleeping,_ she thought. _He does a lot of that these days._  

But for some reason, the silence sent a cold prickling sensation along her spine. With foreboding weighing heavily on her shoulders, she opened the door and stepped in. The curtains were drawn, but the lights were off. One of the beds was unmade, but Ravel was nowhere to be seen. Valkyrie felt her gut twist, and she lost herself to a moment of panic until she saw that the bathroom door was slightly ajar, light streaming through the crack. 

Somehow, that didn’t make her feel any better. 

“Ravel?” Valkyrie called, only to be met with an even more frigid silence. “That’s not funny.” 

Nothing. Now thoroughly concerned, Valkyrie made her way to the bathroom door and looked in through the crack in the door. She had a view of the sink and the end of the bathtub, but still couldn’t see Ravel. 

“I’m not falling for it,” she said loudly, stepping back from the door. No way was she letting the man jump her. “Come out right now.” 

A shaky, wordless breath echoed out of the door, but that was all she got.  

“Ravel?” she repeated. Again, nothing. "Ravel!" 

Heart heavy in her chest, she opened the door and strode in, damning the consequences. 

The first thing she saw was the red dripping from Ravel's right arm. He was curled up on the floor, sleeve pulled up past his elbow and a razor held in his shaking hand. Deep red cuts ran parallel all along his arm,  

Valkyrie felt sick, and weak at the knees. Without thinking, she grabbed a towel from the rack and quickly knelt down in front of him. He didn't say anything as she grabbed his bloodied arm and wrapped it up in the towel. God, he'd even sliced up his fingers. 

"What the _fuck_?" was the first thing out of her mouth. She felt cold, like ice water had been dumped over her head. "What the fuck were you thinking?!" 

He didn't say anything. Didn't even look at her. 

"Keep pressure on that and get up," Valkyrie said abruptly, rising to her feet. Maybe she was being too harsh, maybe she wasn't. She was too shocked to think about it. "Come on, we've got to get this fixed." 

Wordlessly, Ravel did as she asked, and allowed himself to be practically dragged out of the room. 

"Going to Roarhaven!" Valkyrie shouted as she passed the study. Gordon didn't say anything. If anything, he looked slightly more translucent than usual. She marched out of the house with Ravel in tow and all but shoved him into the passenger seat of her car before getting behind the wheel. Starting the engine, she pulled out of the driveway and made her way to Roarhaven as quickly as she could. All the while, Erskine sat in numb silence, staring at his arm. 

They pulled into the Sanctuary car park, and she wasted no time in pulling him all the way to the hospital and yelling for a doctor. 

"The cuts are deep, but they're not life-threatening," Synecdoche explained to Valkyrie whilst Clarabelle was wrapping bandages around Ravel's arm. "I've contacted Mx Veil, and they're on their way." 

Valkyrie nodded. "Right." 

"You'll have to stay with him until they get here," Synecdoche said, turning away. "Try not to make him kill himself." 

"Why would I-?" 

Synecdoche cut her off abruptly. "He has a dangerously fragile mental state and is surrounded by people who hate him and want him dead, including you, Detective. It doesn't take a Sensitive to figure it out. Now, be civil towards him. You don't have to be his shoulder to cry on, but you do have to be his supervisor for the better half of an hour, so sit down and keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn't mess with his bandages." 

Very quickly, Valkyrie nodded and obediently walked over to where Ravel was sat on a gurney near the wall. He looked miserable, gazing at the floor with heavy-lidded eyes and running his fingers against the bandages that now covered his arm. Clarabelle was still there, chattering about Clarabelle things. Her hair was a bright lime green right now. 

"Thanks, Clarabelle," Valkyrie said, sitting down on the nearest chair. "I can keep an eye on him now. You must have things to do." 

"Okie dokie!" Clarabelle chirped, picking up the spare roll of bandages and standing up. The smile on her face flickered when she looked at Ravel one last time, and she gave his shoulder a gentle pat before slowly walking away with less of a bounce in her step than usual. Ravel didn't even twitch. 

He and Valkyrie were left in awkward silence. There was no one else in the Infirmary besides them now, and the only sound was of Valkyrie shifting in her seat. 

Eventually, she was the one to break the silence. 

"Why'd you do it?" she asked incredulously, making him flinch. "What the _hell_ was going through your head to make you do that?" 

It was a while before Ravel said anything, to the point where Valkyrie was willing to give up. 

"It was going too fast for me to keep up," he murmured hoarsely, his shoulders tense. "The pain... the pain slowed it down." He shuddered and choked. "I could've stopped, but I didn't." 

A chilling lump settled into Valkyrie's gut, and she said nothing. They stayed like that until the sound of footsteps made them both look up to find Clarity walking in with Anton behind them. As the Cryptid approached, the stifling silence around Ravel thickened until Valkyrie was sure she could take a slice out of it with a knife. Clarity gave her a look, and she stood up and sidled away towards Anton, who was lingering in the doorway. 

"What happened?" he asked. 

"Ravel slashed up his own arm with a razor," Valkyrie replied numbly. "I found him in the bathroom." 

"How bad was it?" 

"There were a lot of cuts, but none of them will kill him." 

"I see. You can go home, I can drive them both." 

"Okay," Valkyrie said, slowly walking away. A last glance over her shoulder told her that Clarity had sat down next to Ravel on the bed, and the latter had shrunk in on himself. “I'll… I'll see you later, I guess.” 

“Mm.”

Without another word, Valkyrie left. She felt numb and heavy as she drove back to Haggard, taking a wrong turn and stopping outside a house which, twenty years ago, she never thought she'd end up visiting so frequently. On weak legs, she walked down the driveway and knocked on the door. She didn't have to wait long for the door to be opened, revealing a round, soft-featured woman with bottle blonde hair and dark eyes. 

“Valkyrie,” Carolyn greeted, in a voice that was now her own after so long. “Is everything okay?” 

“I need to talk to you and Madeline,” Valkyrie said. 

* * *

“I'm sorry,” Erskine whispered, trembling under Clarity’s gaze. 

“What for?” 

“I… I promised I wouldn't do it again…”  

Carefully, Clarity laid a hand on Erskine’s shoulder, and although the contact made him wince, he didn't protest. 

“You don't need to be sorry for this,” Clarity said. “You said you'd try, and you did. We both knew there was a chance you'd try to hurt yourself again.” 

“Then why do I feel so guilty about it, then?” Erskine demanded, looking up at Clarity with tears welling up in his eyes. “I'm supposed to be getting better, Clarity, but I'm not! I keep fucking everything up, and you say it's fine, but I don't feel fine! Why the hell am I stuck like this?! Why can't I just get over it?!” 

Clarity sighed. This was not what they'd hoped for when Erskine had woken up earlier saying he felt better than usual. “I don't know,” they admitted, as Erskine desperately clung onto their arm like a frightened child. “I'm not a psychiatrist. I just know that this is going to be difficult.” 

“I just want it all to stop,” Erskine choked. “I'm sick of being a useless deadweight.” 

“You're not,” Clarity said firmly. “I promise you, you're not.” 

They were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Looking towards the source, Clarity saw that Clarabelle had reappeared, a clipboard in her hands. 

“Doctor Synecdoche says that you can go now,” she said, smiling weakly at them. “You've just got to sign a few papers.” 

“Of course,” Clarity said, taking the clipboard. The room went quiet save for the scratching of a pen and Erskine’s sniffling. 

“You're not useless,” Clarabelle said quietly, catching Erskine by surprise. “I know it feels like it, but you’ve just got to keep telling yourself that the nasty voices in your head are wrong.” Her smile reached her eyes now, but there was still a sadness to it. “It’ll probably take a long time to feel better enough to climb out of that big hole you're stuck in, but it's okay. And I know that because I’m still stuck there most of the time. But I guess I'm managing.” 

Erskine stared at her, dumbfounded. Tears were still trickling down his face, and his eyes were red and puffy, the pure definition of an emotional mess. 

“How long..?” he asked. 

“Since Doctor Kenspeckle died,” Clarabelle replied. “Not a lot of people believe I'm always sad, but I managed to find a few who do. They've been a lot of help.” 

Erskine just nodded. Finished with the paperwork, Clarity handed it back to Clarabelle. 

“Thank you,” was all they said before standing up. “Ready to go?” 

“Yes,” Erskine said, following them over to Anton, who hadn't moved from his spot by the door. No one spoke as they all went to the man’s car and drove out of the Sanctuary, back to the Manor. 

Valkyrie got home after them, and not long after, Saracen and Skulduggery walked into the manor. 

“What the hell happened to you?” Skulduggery spat when he noticed the fresh bandages on Erskine’s arm. Valkyrie went still, Saracen bit his lip and Clarity and Anton both gave the skeleton unreadable looks. 

“I-I fell,” Erskine murmured, anxiously running a hand along the bandages. 

"You fell?" Skulduggery repeated sceptically. 

Erskine nodded. "Yes... I fell..." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never been through anything that I've put Erskine through. I don't know what it's like to feel so helpless that the only way out seems to be to hurt myself, and I consider myself extremely lucky for it. By writing this, I'm trying to understand how it feels for someone else, and maybe provide others with a way of understanding it too, and it's gotten to the point that I'm full-on researching depression and looking for first-hand accounts of peoples' experiences with it.
> 
> I can't do very much, I'm afraid, but if you ever want to talk about anything that's causing you trouble, then I'm always available to talk.


	8. Chapter 7 - Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stop assuming you know everything!” they barked. “You don’t know _anything_ about what he’s been through!”  
>  ###  
> Clarity doesn't know why they bother talking to Skulduggery anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for missing last week's update. To make up for it, I'm posting two chapters this week, so be sure to read that one too.
> 
> Warnings for suicide idealisation.

Skulduggery didn't hear anything about Valkyrie dragging Ravel to hospital, much to her relief. The next few days passed by rather uneventfully as they worked on the vampire cases, which became a department-wide effort after one of the missing persons reappeared in the middle of the road one evening, covered in blisters and her human skin missing in places, despite it not being night-time yet. She was still bound to a hospital bed, refusing to speak and screaming at anyone who asked her where she'd been. The blisters had healed, but her skin was still an ugly, patchy mess. All the Sensitives said the same things after trying to read her mind; someone was blocking them out. 

At home, things were tenser. Skulduggery and Clarity had gotten into an argument the evening Erskine had been to the hospital. Clarity’s frustration had led to several exploding glasses as their magic reacted to their emotions. It ended when Clarity said that he was a lousy excuse for a detective if he couldn't figure out why they'd gotten Erskine out and stormed out of the house, not to come back for over an hour. Their yelling had filled the manor, making the dogs bark, which had just made even more noise, and Valkyrie had been extremely relieved when Clarity had left. When she'd checked on Erskine to make sure he was still alive, she'd found him curled up on the bed, picking at the cuts on his fingers and making them start bleeding again. Saracen had had to redress them and keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't try doing it again. 

Right now, it was late afternoon. Valkyrie was rifling through the kitchen drawers for her collection of takeaway menus (Saracen had moved them. Again) and Erskine was sat at the table, idly scribbling in a notebook that she'd seen him carrying around recently. Clarity was out for a walk around the woods. 

“A gift?” she asked, nodding towards the book. 

“Clarabelle sent it over,” Erskine said quietly. “She said it might help.” 

Valkyrie nodded. “Have you tried talking to others about it? People who… feel a similar way?” 

“No. Not really.” 

“Right.” 

There was a moment of awkward silence before Valkyrie spoke again. 

“My cousins said that if you wanted to talk to anyone, they're always available,” she suggested. 

“You mean… Carol and… Crystal, was it?” 

“It's Carolyn and Madeline now. They… took the names some time ago.” 

At this, Erskine looked up. “I thought that they…” 

“They found out ages ago. Turns out that Madeline is a Sensitive. As for Carolyn, it’s… complicated.” 

“Oh. Do they know about..?” 

“About you? Well, they've been to Roarhaven; it's hard not to.” 

Erskine immediately shrank in on himself, and Valkyrie realised that she probably shouldn't have said that. It had been difficult enough getting him to even look at her these past few days, and now she'd gone and dug up something he clearly didn't want to talk about. He was twisting his hands together, eyes lowered to the table. She probably wasn't going to get anything else out of him. 

There was the sound of the front door being opened, and Valkyrie looked up to see Skulduggery saunter into the kitchen. Erskine’s eyes widened, but he didn’t move. 

“Hey,” she greeted. “How'd that meeting with the vampires go?” 

“I'm fairly sure all we achieved was to tick them all off, especially Dusk,” Skulduggery said. “We've had to put every vampire left in Roarhaven under house arrest and surveillance. None of them are happy.” 

Valkyrie grimaced. “That’s not good.” 

Skulduggery shrugged. “It’s necessary.” His gaze drifted to Erskine, finally noticing he was there. “Why are you here?” 

“I’m keeping an eye on him,” Valkyrie answered before Erskine could even draw breath. She was still digging through the drawers for the takeaway menus. 

Skulduggery tilted his head at a sceptical angle. “I see. Where’s Clarity?” 

“Um… Out for a walk,” Erskine murmured under his breath, slowly closing the notebook and pushing it away. “They…” 

“Got them!” Valkyrie announced, making him jump. She straightened up to reveal the crumpled stack of menus in her hand. “I don’t know what I want. Any ideas?” 

Her eyes settled on Erskine, but there was a forced lightness to her features. Skulduggery noticed. 

“Would you like me to get rid of him?” he asked politely. 

“He’s not done anything,” Valkyrie objected, frowning. 

“He shouldn’t be here,” Skulduggery countered. He didn’t notice Erskine shrinking in on himself. 

Valkyrie’s jaw tightened. “Clarity wanted me to keep an eye on him. I couldn’t exactly do that if I left him upstairs.” 

She didn't mention that she was afraid to find him cutting himself again if he was left alone. 

“You could have just locked him in the bedroom,” Skulduggery suggested, not at all helping. 

“Oh, come off it, Skul,” Valkyrie exasperated, dropping the menus. “He’s not doing anything, just ignore him.” 

“Valkyrie, you know as well as I do that-.” 

“That what?” Valkyrie demanded. “That he hurt people? Of course I know that. I’m not happy that he’s here either, but I can’t just leave him alone where no one can keep an eye on him.” 

“Please stop,” Erskine whispered, but his words went unheard. 

“I don’t like him being here, Valkyrie,” Skulduggery continued, as if Erskine wasn’t even there. “You can just ask Clarity to leave, they’ve been looking for other places to stay.” 

“I’m not kicking them out, okay?” argued Valkyrie. “I want to get to know them; I want them to like me. Making them pack up and leave all of a sudden would ruin that.” 

Skulduggery was silent for a moment. “Alright then,” he conceded. Valkyrie huffed and turned away. 

“Apologise,” Erskine said quietly, making Valkyrie and Skulduggery look back at him. He still had his eyes lowered, but his fists were clenched. 

“Excuse me?” Skulduggery asked darkly, crossing his arms. 

“Apologise to Valkyrie,” Erskine repeated, louder this time, with a cold edge to his voice. “And when Clarity gets back, apologise to them, because I am _sick_ of watching you take your anger out on people who _don’t deserve it_.” 

The silence that descended upon the room was almost tangible, and Valkyrie could only stare at Erskine, who was looking up at Skulduggery with fear and assertion. 

“You dare…” Skulduggery growled, his head tilted at a dangerous angle. “You have _no right_ to speak.” 

“I know,” Erskine said, his voice strained. Slowly, he rose to his feet. “But no one else is saying it, so I must. You keep _doing this_. You keep taking your anger out on everyone else. Clarity, Ghastly, and now Valkyrie! I am _tired_ of standing by and letting it happen!” 

“And yet you do it anyway,” Skulduggery challenged, his voice harsh. “You keep hiding behind the people you manipulate. Tell me, Ravel, when are you going to stop _using_ people?” 

At this, Erskine flinched, as if he’d just been struck. “Ní raibh mé chiallaíonn go,” he protested, his voice wavering. “I’m not doing that.” 

“Is that so? Because it seems to me that you’ve managed to squirm your way out of prison by doing _just that_.” 

Erskine shook his head. “I didn’t. I swear, I didn’t.” 

“Just drop the act already,” Skulduggery snapped, fists lowered to his sides. “It’s not working anymore.” 

“Níl sé gníomh…” 

“As for taking advantage of _Clarity_ , of all people, well that is low, even for you.” 

“I wasn’t-.” 

“And if you hurt them, I swear-.” 

“Since when did you care what happened to them?” Erskine spat, his features twisting into a scowl as he took a step forward. “All you’ve ever done since you found out who they were is ignore them! They’re not stupid; they’re not naïve! They know how much you resent them for something as simple as _existing_! For having a better chance than your own child did!” 

“Don’t you _dare_ bring her into this!” Skulduggery roared, slamming a fist onto the table. Erskine didn’t move, glaring directly into Skulduggery’s eye sockets, with a fire in his eyes that Valkyrie now realised she hadn’t seen in a decade. “You have _no right_ -!” 

“ _You_ have no right to hate Clarity for something they had no control over!” Erskine cut in. “They _know_ you hate them, but they _still_ try to gain your acceptance!” 

“I don’t hate-!” 

“Stop picking fights with them then! That’s all you’ve done since they got here!” 

Erskine was trembling now; with rage or fear, Valkyrie didn’t know, but he was definitely blinking back tears. 

“If you want to take your anger out on someone, then take it out on _me_!” he shouted. “I’m the one who deserves it! I’m the one you should be giving shit for existing!” 

“You shouldn’t be here!” Skulduggery bellowed, his fists shaking. He looked ready to punch Erskine right in the face, and all Valkyrie could do was watch this unfold, unsure of what to do. “You should be rotting in Shelainn right now! You should be dead after what you did!” 

“Then kill me already if that’s what you want!” Erskine screeched. “Because you’re fucking right! I don’t deserve to be alive right now after all the people I hurt! Everyone I _killed_!” 

Valkyrie felt ice running down her back. Not again… 

“How do you want it to go then?!” Erskine continued, a deranged glint in his eye that made Skulduggery lean away from him. “Because I am beyond caring at this point! Do you want me to jump off a bridge? Because I can do that! Just point me to one and I’ll fucking jump!” 

Skulduggery didn't say anything. 

“Well?!” Erskine demanded, tears welling up in his eyes, threatening to spill over. “What do you want?!” 

Finally, Valkyrie intervened. “Erskine-.” 

“And I don’t deserve your pity either!” Erskine shouted, eyes on her. “I can understand Clarity’s reasoning, but _you_? Just because you’ve seen what a fucking mess I am doesn’t make me exempt from your hatred! Where’s that gone?!” 

“I-.” 

“You just don’t want to live with the fact that someone committed suicide in your own home!” Erskine accused, the tears finally flowing down his gaunt cheeks. “That’s it, isn’t it?!” 

“No!” Valkyrie protested. “That’s not… I don’t…” 

Erskine scowled at her. “Exactly,” he growled. 

Throughout all of this, Skulduggery had remained uncharacteristically quiet. Even as Valkyrie floundered for words, he didn’t move until they all heard the front door opening and footsteps coming in. 

Everyone looked up to see Clarity at the door, their eyes glimmering unnaturally and an icy not-cold radiating from every inch of them. The blood drained from Erskine’s face, and he took a step back, shaking. 

“C-Clarity, I…” he whimpered. “I-I didn’t… I…” 

“I think you should go upstairs,” Clarity said quietly, their expression blank. 

Trembling and fighting back sobs, Erskine all but ran out of the room. Valkyrie heard a thud as he tripped on the stairs. Her own hands were shaking as Clarity turned their gaze on her, a primal, frighteningly familiar presence glowering at her from behind those violet irises. 

Unable to hold the stare, she looked away. 

“This is why I should’ve stayed in Austria,” Clarity said darkly. “So that you people wouldn’t fuck things up for him.” 

Skulduggery scoffed. “I thought you were smarter than this, but it seems I’m wrong, so let me spell it out for you. He’s using you.” 

At this, Clarity snarled; an animalistic noise that made Valkyrie jump. A wall of shadows suddenly slammed Skulduggery into the wall, making her cry out in shock. Energy flashed in her palm as she readied herself, but to her shock, the attacker was Clarity. Shadows thrashed around at their feet, accumulating around a black metal band wrapped around their wrist (how had she not noticed that before?). The primordial creature in their eyes had twisted their features into a visage of pure rage. 

“Stop assuming you know everything!” they barked. “You don’t know _anything_ about what he’s been through!” 

Skulduggery remained silent, his head tilted at a defiant angle as he looked Clarity straight in the eye, even as the shadows licked at his skull. 

“Not once has he tried to use me for his own gain; I am _not stupid_ ,” Clarity said. “You only see what you want to see. He is in no position to be manipulating anyone, and you’re just making it worse for him! You say you’ve done things that can’t be forgiven. Things so awful that you abandoned your family crest. Yet you still gave yourself the chance to redeem yourself. Why doesn’t he get that?” 

“Because he’s a traitorous bastard!” Skulduggery spat. “He tried to _kill_ Ghastly and Anton, Clarity! Doesn’t that mean _anything_ to you?!” 

“Of course it does!” was the enraged response. “They’re my family just as much as he is, and I was so _hurt_ by what he did! But he’s been hurt too, and he’s been punished enough! I’ve not forgotten what he did, but I’m done hating him for it. Hate does nothing but turn us into monsters.” 

Skulduggery went tense. The shadows retreated and disappeared as Clarity lowered their hand. 

“I don’t know why I’m still trying to get through to you,” they said scornfully. “You’ve never listened before, why would this be any different?” They glanced over at Valkyrie. “Even she has more reasoning than you.” 

With a snort of contempt, they turned and left. All Valkyrie could do was stare after them as Skulduggery angrily straightened out his jacket. 

“Incorrigible,” he whispered under his breath. 

* * *

He shouldn’t have said anything. Should’ve kept his stupid mouth shut. Now Valkyrie was going to kick him and Clarity out, and Clarity was going to hate him for it. They’d retract custody and send him back to Shelainn, he knew it. 

Now he was curled up on his bed after having spent the past god-knows-how-long pacing up and down the room, resisting the urge to get another razor from the bathroom cabinet. In the process, he’d nearly set fire to his bandages because _of course_ he had to be graced with the nervous tic of snapping his fingers together. 

Choking on sobs, he buried his head between his knees and waited for Clarity to come in and pass judgement. He felt numb; too exhausted to be scared anymore. He deserved whatever he got; there was no use denying it. Yet his heart still thudded rapidly as his mind rifled through the different ways Clarity was going to react to this. He knew he was being unreasonable, but as usual, his mind couldn’t grasp that fact. 

The door clicked open, and he pulled his knees in closer as Clarity’s footsteps grew louder. The bed opposite him creaked slightly. 

“Tá an-brón orm,” he whispered. 

“Ná bíodh,” was the soft reply, although the Irish was halting. Dear god, why did they have to be so calm all the time? Sometimes he just wanted them to be angry, at least it made sense. “He needs to get it through that thick skull of his that you’re not what you were.” 

“Is that true, though?” 

“It is. People just refuse to see it.” 

Erskine was quiet for a long while, and Clarity waited, equally quiet. 

“Why can’t I believe you?” he asked, looking up at them. 

“N… Níl a fhios… agam,” Clarity admitted, reaching a hand out towards him. He stared at it for a while, before taking it and crawling onto the other bed next to them. They leaned against the headboard, and Erskine rested his head on their shoulder, exhausted. 

“I told him he hated you,” he murmured. “And that it was because you had a better chance than Eloise did.” 

"… Oh..." 

Erskine lowered his head. "It was low. Even for me." 

Clarity didn't say anything at first. "He needed a kick below the belt anyway." 

"You're just saying that to make me feel better." 

"I think he deserved it. I might be wrong, though. I usually am, according to him." 

"He... he's the one who's wrong." 

At this, Clarity looked down at him, head tilted at an angle that conveyed a smile and surprise. "That's a bold statement." 

"It is. That's a good thing, right?" 

"I think so." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to read the next chapter!


	9. Chapter 8 - Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It seems you have not completely expelled the energy you attained in your second-to-previous visit," the Engineer commented. "While I am not fully informed on your unique physiology, I cannot help but express my concerns."  
> ###  
> While Clarity and Valkyrie talk over breakfast, Skulduggery finds himself in the bowels of the Old Sanctuary. He's not alone there, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this one, and it's a little short, but hey. Enjoy.

Valkyrie woke up at five o'clock the next morning. It was something that happened, even after a decade.  After showering, she peeked into Clarity's room to find Erskine still in bed, and the Cryptid absent. An ear to Saracen's door told her that he was still snoring the early hours of morning away, so she went to get some breakfast. In the kitchen, it turned out that Clarity had beaten her to it, idly grazing on dry cereal whilst scratching Xena behind the ears. Denny was currently nipping at the knees of a lanky silhouette that was wandering around the room. 

"Morning," she greeted, ignoring the feeling of deja-vu that she felt when Clarity looked up at her. Behind them, the silhouette vanished, leaving a confused Denny to whine at empty air. "Rough night?" 

"Erskine had trouble sleeping," Clarity said, offering a handful of cereal to Xena. "So did I." 

"Is that a regular problem?" 

There was a pause. "It's always been a problem, I think. Doesn't affect me as much, though." 

"Oh. Uh... You never mentioned you were a Necromancer." 

"I didn't think it was important. Is it?" 

"No, I just... I wondered, just... didn't know how to ask." Valkyrie walked over to the bread bin and started making herself some toast. She'd make a proper meal later, when everyone else was awake. "Did you learn at the Temples?" 

Clarity nodded and looked back down at Xena. "Elder Crow taught me how to keep it under control. I kept destroying things when I got angry or scared. Once the War ended, I spent some time at various Temples, refining it." 

"Why Necromancy, though?" 

"It was the only thing that worked. People tried teaching me other disciplines, but..." They shrugged, "it didn't happen." 

"Oh." 

The toast popped out, and neither of them said anything as Valkyrie slathered jam over it. Denny started whining and scratching at the door, so she let him out. Xena followed him on greying paws after some encouragement from Clarity. 

"We haven't talked about what I am yet," Clarity said suddenly, making Valkyrie turn to look at them. 

"What about it?" she questioned. 

"You know what Serpine used to make me?" 

"Uh, vampire, something... something..." 

"Werewolf," Clarity supplied. 

"Yeah, Skulduggery ment-. Oh... Oh, right. Um... So..." 

"The next full moon is in a week and a half," Clarity said. "I'll transform, and stay like that during the day, but I'm not dangerous. If you don't want me here, then I can head somewhere else. It'll only be three nights." 

Taking a deep breath, Valkyrie took a moment to collect her thoughts. When she'd collected herself, she asked, "Where?" 

"Corrival Deuce left me some land when he died. It's not too far from Roarhaven." 

"Really? Wow. First Morwenna Crow, and then Deuce. How many people do you know?" 

"A few. Not many people know me very well." 

"Didn't you say you have friends in Baltimore?" 

"Two. And a few other people here and there. Not many." 

"Huh. We're getting off topic, aren't we?" 

Clarity nodded. "Yes. Do you want me here or not?" 

If Valkyrie didn't know any better, that would have come across as hostile. "Well, how does it work with you?" 

"I don't go savage, I'm more like an animal." 

"A wolf. And I leave dead things on your doorstep." 

"Like a big cat" Valkyrie mumbled through a mouthful of toast. 

"I suppose." 

"You're CatDog." 

"I don't know what that means." 

Valkyrie laughed. 

* * *

Skulduggery was skulking along the corridors of the Sanctuary in a bad mood. He'd been alternating between working on the Vampire Case and pacing ever since the argument he'd had with first Ravel, and then Clarity, silently fuming. Everywhere he went, the shadows in every dusty little corner flittered in agitation, and he could feel the steady pulsing of darkness in his bones that came from Vile's armour. He hadn't used it in ten years, and the energy he'd poured into it was still there, raging beneath the surface, and beginning to gnaw away at his mind. 

It was getting harder and harder to remain in control. Vile had been abnormally quiet in the past decade, but he could still feel him there, lurking at the bars in his cage, trying to slip through them, trying to get out. 

_"You are_ not _getting out,"_ he snarled internally, locking Vile up tighter. The monster just growled in agitation and slunk away. Skulduggery didn't relax. A piece of plaster fell off the wall and the shadows crushed it to dust. 

The only sound in this corridor was his echoing footsteps. He'd made his way to the lower levels of the old building, where the walls were crumbling, the lights were dim if not completely gone, and dust was collecting on every surface. Spiderwebs accumulated in every corner, and the shadows within them tore them to shreds and crushed any unfortunate spider that found itself in the wake of his latent wrath. 

He was alone. Just himself and the monster he refused to accept was him. 

"Hello, Detective." 

He jumped, and a wall cracked. The Engineer didn’t flinch. 

"I appear to have startled you," the Engineer said, the smiley face on its head oddly mocking. "Apologies. Did you require something?" 

Skulduggery didn't say anything until he finished straightening his hat and coat. "No," he snipped. "I was just... lost in thought." 

"It seems you have not completely expelled the energy you attained in your second-to-previous visit," the Engineer commented. "While I am not fully informed on your unique physiology, I cannot help but express my concerns." 

"I am fine, Engineer. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be." 

With the nonexistent eyes of the Engineer on his back, Skulduggery left. He didn't actually have somewhere to be. He just needed an excuse to leave. As he made his way down the forgotten parts of the Sanctuary, something caught his eye. 

A shadow, dripping with light, flittering just out of sight round a corner that lead deeper into the maze of grey. It was dark and unnatural, and any sane person would have turned and walked the other way. 

But he was far from sane, and regardless of it being a figment of his imagination, he followed it. 

It turned out to be a mistake. The moment he turned the corner, the last thing he saw was a pair of eyes and a blinding flash, before everything went dark. 

In Edgely Manor, Clarity felt their spine crackling, and Valkyrie left the kitchen with the beginnings of a migraine


	10. Chapter 9 - Contradictive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hairline cracks started forming along its surface, and Vile's screams became less angry and more terrified.  
> ###  
> Skulduggery should be used to psychotic, semi-corporeal entities tormenting him by now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shortie with a cliffhanger. I'm evil, enjoy my meanness.

When Valkyrie arrived at the Sanctuary, nothing seemed out of the ordinary apart from the fact that Skulduggery hadn't answered any of her phone calls or replied to any of her texts. Still, even that wasn't all too unusual. He tended to lose himself in his work and forget that the outside world existed. She had no reason to worry. Tipstaff was his usual, overbearing self, and the Elders were all fine and dandy, no one seemed to be dying at this moment in time. 

He wasn't in their office. Okay, that was fine. He'd probably be back soon. In the meantime, she'd get some more work done. This vampire case was actually interesting. 

She'd been working for half an hour when there was a knock on the door. 

"Come in!" she called, not looking up. 

"Have you seen Skulduggery anywhere?" Ghastly asked, closing the door behind him. 

Valkyrie frowned. "Not since yesterday." 

"No one's seen him since five, and he's not answering his phone." 

"Maybe he's out? Following some leads?" 

"The Bentley's still in the car park," Ghastly said, shaking his head. "No one saw him leave." 

The frown on Valkyrie's features deepened, and she put down her pen. "I'll go look for him." 

"Please do." 

* * *

She'd been searching for an hour. She couldn't find him, and he wasn't answering his phone. He wasn't anywhere to be found in the Old Sanctuary, even though she knew he had a habit of wandering through the corridors when he was in a bad mood. 

Now she was getting worried. It was an erratic serpent tying knots in her stomach 

"I'm sure he's fine," China dismissed when she asked her to send someone to help look for him. "It's not the first time he's disappeared." 

"He'd have said something," Valkyrie objected. "A text, a note, _something_." 

Mild irritation twitched on China's features. "I'll send someone to look," she said tersely. 

The serpent in her insides didn't calm down. 

* * *

Skulduggery didn't usually get headaches. When he did, it meant that Vile was dangerously close to assuming control. Or his head had been stolen. That was another instance in which he got headaches. 

He was floating in a hazy blur, devoid of light and consumed by the mind-numbing sensation of pins and needles that robbed him of all sensation in his body. Groaning, he shook his head (at least... he thought he was) in an attempt to clear away the ringing that echoed in it. 

When he could finally feel his body and see where he was, he was taken aback by how _dark_ it was. Even his eyeless sight couldn't penetrate it, but he seemed to be in a cell of sorts, shackled to a steel chair that was, in turn, bolted to the concrete floor. This wasn't anything new, if he was being completely honest, but something about the utter silence that surrounded him set off a fidgety nervousness in him that he hadn't felt in centuries. 

"Is anyone there?" he called, his voice immediately getting swallowed up by the shadows. There wasn't even an echo. 

“̢̭͓͔̣I҉'̝̭͎m̗̩̺̥ ̧̰̤͇̱̠̻h̥̥͕e̛̬̜͍̮r̰̱e̤͙̕.̴͕̞̗͕̝̼”͈̯͔͉̗̪͖ 

It was a high, rumbling echo that reverberated through his bones, made up of a ghostly choir of one person whose infinite voices filled the room, the sweet screech of a song that he found hauntingly familiar. The shadows shifted away from him, congealing into a hunched, oblong shape that gazed down at him with sinister glowing pits for eyes. Tainted light dripped down its outline, drawing lines of chromatic colours in its path that faded away almost instantly. It filled the room with a hot buzz of energy, and the sweet, cloying reek of decay made Skulduggery gag. 

“Let. Me. Go,” he said slowly, staring the… this thing… in the eye. “Now.” 

“͙͢Ṋ͜o̰̜͇̮̬̟͚͠t̝̻͈͇̙̳̙ ͍y̳͚͖̜̘e̤̰̞͎ͅt̺̯͖̲͎ͅ,”͖͎ the being said, impassive yet brimming with emotion. “̮̣̳̖̰̻͓͝Ị ҉͇͉̮̥̱͈̺n̫͠e͎̲̗e̢̖d̬̮̻͙͉͞ ̪̘̮̞͇̩ͅt̜o̷̪͔͙̯̮ ̖̭̺̭d͔̗̯̳̠͘o͢ ͇̹̣͍͉͉s̰͚̖͔o̯̭̞͘m͓͈̫͠ͅe͔̤̺̜̦͘t͉̬͇̤̜h̛̩̙̘̱̞̭i̫͔̰͓͍͎̺n͏̪̘̳̠͎̩͚g͔̺ ̲̲̥̯̞͙͠f̖̥i͟r҉͖̯͔s̫̭̠̙̠̘̝͡t̼͎͖̣͇͍”̼͎͉̪̜̥͇ 

A cold weight formed in Skulduggery’s head, and he felt Vile’s anxiety mixing with his own. 

"Do what?" he asked quietly. 

"̥̼̖̗S͎͝o̴̮̜̞̘̭̣̯m̗͡ȩ͙̰̭ͅṭ̶͉̼h̯̠͔i͠n͡g̷̱͍̹̫͓ ͙͕̻i̘̣̙̱m̡p̺o̻̘̗͙̮r̺͓̣̖͖̦͓t̵̪͔͔̮̣̺̘a̛n̹̣t̡,͎̙͔̪"̯̝̥̫̣͎̮

The figure said, looming over him. A long-fingered hand extended from its form, reaching towards his skull. He jerked away, but it hooked a claw in his eye socket and forced him to look at it. The presence of something inside his skull made his thoughts stutter to a halt, frozen in horror. 

"Get off me," he hissed. The thing didn't respond, merely tapping its fingertips against his skull. With each tap, Skulduggery felt something toying with the energy that held him together, and sharp stabs of pain every time. 

Then it settled. 

"̨̟̣̘̟ͅF͙̘̠̲̱̙̩o̵͖̻u̜̞̦n̡̖̟̜̣̪̟d̞̲͇͍͔ ̦͓͍͓i͎̝̳̫͉t̖̣͙̺̭̘,̡͎"̳̼ the creature said. 

Before Skulduggery could say anything, he felt an icy cold substance accumulating in his skull, and Vile screaming _'no, no_ _no_ _!'_ at him. 

_"Don't let them take it!_ _"_  

With slow, precise movements, the creature extracted a writhing, shadowy black mass from his skull, and he felt himself instinctively gagging at the sensation. When it finally stopped, it held it out for him to see, like a child at show-and-tell. 

_"Give it back_ _!"_ Vile screeched, slamming himself at the bars of his cage. Skulduggery could only watch as the creature compressed his armour into a solid sphere, about the size of Skulduggery's own fist, forcing its surplus energy deeper and deeper into its core until it was just a dull, round lump of black metal. 

Hairline cracks started forming along its surface, and Vile's screams became less angry and more terrified. 

_"Stop!_ _Stopstopstop_ _!!_ _"_  

All Skulduggery could do was watch, stunned as the armour crumbled before his eyes. In a violent explosion of black dust, the power it contained burst out and smothered him, soaking into his bones, his very soul, sending Vile into a shrieking fit of agony whilst he himself choked on inky blackness. 

"̥͙͎̩̩Ọ̣̰h҉͈̣͚ ̙͈͡g̲͖̟̯̳͙o̵o͈d͏̻̰̞,̝ ̜̺̜̰̖ị̩̘͇̬t̝̪͇̼'s̵̪ ̛͙̬͍͇a̖̱̲l̞͎̪̦̯l̦͝ ͉̟͝t͚͠h̠͎̬͙̹eṛ͇͔̥̤̪e̩̥͉̰̭̹.̹̰̲͖͖̞ ̳̪̪͔W̮͓̠̳̲̪̹͡h̷̪a̢t͏̝̠ ͠c̴͇̙̙̘o̻̪̫̰͘me̹͔̬̲ș̝͉͍̩ ̦̮̤n͏̲e̩̯͘x̳̺͇͓ṱ̺̮͓͇̳͝ ͇̥̬w̺͕͖̼͈̘͝o̠̘͖̕u̬̰̯͜ͅl̨̼d h̗̭̻̳ͅa̗v̡͙̹̝̙e ̥͍̲̖̥̞b̡̪̫̫e̻͚̝͓̬e̹̟̹̤͎̭n̕ ̮͖m͞e̬͕̫̠̣̘s̪̭̥̲̬͈ͅs͓̝y̵̮ ̴͖̗͍̜̤̙i̖̗͖̲̱͟f ̟͇͔͇̹̲̹i͏t̛ ͉̤͙̥͉͙͙h̯a̺d̯n̞͝'̨̙̰̹̬t̲̟̝̱.̟̮͓"͙̲̠͇̹̤̮ 

"Screw off," Skulduggery growled hoarsely, his hands shaking and false breathing heavy. 

_"Make it stop,"_  Vile begged. _"No more hurt."_  

Why did Skulduggery find his words so familiar? 

The claws were back in his skull, hooked under his lower jaw and forcing him to look up. 

"What are you doing?" 

Pausing, the creature tilted its head, as if searching for an answer. Dear god, why did he have to be stuck with the psychotic entities? 

"͇Į͓͖̟͎'̧͓̙̰͎m̼..̵̥̘.̵̗ ͙͔͔̖͞l̮̭̺̺̳̯͍e̞̖̺̰̻̣͖a̪̩̱͇͖ͅͅr͎̝̺̺͕n͚͇̕i̢̝͖͔n̳̪͖͚g̼͙.̳̥̰͎̝͠"҉̟͚̝ 

Before Skulduggery could say anything, he was screaming, with white hot pain piercing his entire being. 


	11. Chapter 10 - Corridors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Never thought I'd see the day when _vampires_ got traumatised by shadows."  
>  ###  
> Or: Ravel gets lost in his own city, and the Sanctuary has vampires hidden in its basement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I drew influence from SPX in this one, so beware spoilers. I'm still not 100% sure if I want to include major events from the book in this. I think I will, I just need to clean it up so that it remains consistent throughout this fic.
> 
> Other than that, enjoy!

Three days. 

Skulduggery had been missing for three days. No one had seen him since the Engineer had spoken to him. Valkyrie wasn't sleeping, too focused on trying to find him to do anything else. 

Eventually, Ghastly told her to stop. Take a break, get some sleep, ask Militsa to talk at her until she was somewhat relaxed. 

So now, she was hand in hand with Militsa as they both walked through Shade Park in Roarhaven’s East district alongside Xena and Denny. Her girlfriend was chatting about her latest research and she was just nodding when appropriate because she was too tired to really make any noticeable input. 

Darquesse was there too. In the past five years, the stray thought of her true name had, astonishingly, taken a liking to the redhead. Something about an amiable personality and greater potential. She was actually making commentary on the subject, but thankfully Militsa couldn't hear her. 

Then suddenly, Xena and Denny both darted off, the latter barking loudly. Valkyrie called after them, but they ignored her and kept running. Darquesse suddenly perked up as well, and hastily followed with a grim look on her face, growling under her breath. 

"What's gotten into them?" Militsa asked. Valkyrie just shrugged and picked up the pace, taking Militsa with her. 

She saw Darquesse standing over someone sat on a bench and violently poking them in the head, but passing straight through them. This same person was having their face licked off by Denny. 

Valkyrie recognised him immediately. 

"Oi!" she shouted, rushing towards him and leaving a very startled-looking Militsa behind. "What are you doing here?!" 

Ravel froze and looked up at her, his eyes wide and the left one looking painfully bloodshot for some reason. Darquesse was still trying to maul him, with little success. 

"Ravel," Valkyrie said severely once she got closer. "Where's Clarity?" 

There was a moment where Ravel just pulled his coat tighter around himself, hunching his shoulders and looking at his feet. 

"I got separated from them," he admitted quietly. "I-I... I'm lost..." 

Darquesse went bug-eyed and burst out into hysterical laughter. 

"You got lost in your own fucking city?!" she screeched. Valkyrie noticed the way Erskine winced and pressed a hand over his eye.

Militsa walked up to them both, frowning. "What's going..?" Her eyes landed on Ravel and she trailed off. "Um... Oh..." 

"How the hell did you wind up getting lost?" Valkyrie asked, eyebrow raised. 

"Um... Saracen was showing us around," Ravel murmured, having shrivelled up beneath Militsa's wide stare. 

Valkyrie sighed in exasperation. This man just kept on surprising her, didn't he? 

"Let's get you to the Sanctuary. I'll call Clarity and tell them to meet us there." She turned to face Militsa. "Sorry about this." 

"It's fine," Militsa said, her eyes still on Ravel. "We can just drop him off and then we can carry on with our own thing, right?" 

"Thanks." 

A glance at Ravel told him to get up, and he did, trailing behind both women as they left the park. Xena and Denny were clipped back onto their leashes, and they all headed for the nearest tram station whilst Valkyrie called Clarity to let them know what was going on. 

Militsa wouldn't stop glancing over her shoulder to gawk at Ravel. He had Xena’s lead in his hand because the German Shepherd wouldn't stop trying to walk alongside him. 

"Don't look now, but I think your girlfriend has the hots for a murderer," Darquesse drawled into Valkyrie's ear the moment she got off the phone. 

Fighting off the urge to scowl, Valkyrie looked over her shoulder at Ravel and then turned her gaze to Militsa. 

"Is everything okay?" she asked, causing for Militsa to start. 

"He's... not what I expected," Militsa said quietly. 

"What were you expecting?" 

"Someone... bigger. You know, like... someone who fills the room with their presence. He doesn't." 

"I noticed. It's weird." 

"I think something's wrong." 

Valkyrie tilted her head. “What do you mean?” 

Again, Militsa glanced back at Ravel. He didn't seem to be listening to them, more focused on watching the pavement pass beneath his feet.  

“He's so… scared,” Militsa whispered just as someone brushed past them, shooting a Look at Valkyrie and almost stepping on Xena. Ravel shrivelled away like a slug covered in salt. "That's not what you'd expect from someone who was so set on a revolution just ten years ago."

"She knows he can hear him, right?" Darquesse said. "Well, I can from there, I don't think he's listening." 

"I just want to get him back to his custodian and out of my hair," Valkyrie muttered. "Come on." 

They got to the tram station and waited for the next tram to the Sanctuary. While Militsa and Valkyrie chatted about what was going on in Corrival Academy, Ravel stood close behind them, shifting about on his feet and staring at the pavement with his arms wrapped around himself. Xena kept pawing at his leg, whining for attention and grumbling when she didn't get any. Soon enough, a tram arrived, and the three of them got on and sat down. Ravel took a window seat in the row behind Valkyrie and Militsa. Much to Valkyrie's irritation, Xenia had hopped up onto the seat next to him, and was now stubbornly refusing to get off. At another stop, someone asked Ravel to move her. She just growled at both of them and the passenger spent the remainder of their journey glaring at the back of his head. 

They eventually got to the Sanctuary to find Clarity and Saracen waiting on the front stairs. The Cryptid was nursing a bandaged arm in a sling for some reason that hadn't been there this morning, but it didn't seem to bother them when they got up and trotted over to Ravel with Saracen on their heels. 

"How's Roarhaven treating you?" Saracen asked, a joking grin on his face. 

"Like a tourist without a map," Ravel said, a weary half-smile on his face. "The park was nice, though." 

"Get any souvenirs?" 

"No cash and closed accounts." 

"Okay, next time you decide to get lost in the city, let me know so I can get you some cash." 

Ravel just shook his head, the smile getting more exasperated. He looked ready to say something else when Staven Weeper came charging out of the Sanctuary, yelling for Valkyrie. 

"What?!" Valkyrie shouted. 

"They found all the vampires in the basement!" Staven screeched, tripping over his feet and falling flat on his face. Saracen grimaced at the sound of his nose breaking. That needed a trip to the infirmary. 

Without a moment's hesitation, Valkyrie was racing up the stairs, leaving behind a very confused girlfriend to stare after her. 

She wasn't the only one, either. 

"When did the Sanctuary have vampires in the basement?" Erskine asked, frowning. Clarity just shrugged. 

* * *

The vampires had been found deep within the depths of the Old Sanctuary in the old prison cells by Clarabelle. She'd been 'following a black butterfly', apparently. Cleavers were either escorting them out or carrying them away on stretchers. Several corpses were piled up in one cell, A few of them turned, all of them mangled and bloodied. Valkyrie hadn't looked at them for too long, but she thought that one of the turned ones had had its jaws pulled forward into a muzzle and horn-like protrusions on its skull, like some sort of fucked-up taxidermy project. 

Only a few vampires were coherent enough to provide any semblance of answers to Valkyrie's questions (Strange... she'd never really seen any _in_ coherent vampires before. They'd always seemed unflappable to her), but what answers they did have weren't much. All she could get from them was that something had kept them in the cells and dragged others out one by one, to another part of the Old Sanctuary, where their screams could be heard echoing down to them. 

So Valkyrie went in the direction she'd been pointed to, a heavy weight in her gut and a nagging voice telling her that there was more to this than traumatised vampires. 

"Never thought I'd see the day when _vampires_ got traumatised by shadows," Darquesse remarked, hovering by Valkyrie's shoulder. 

"What do you mean by that?" Valkyrie asked. She was alone for now, wandering through the halls with a ball of crackling light floating above her head. 

"Weren't you listening? Some of those vampires were talking about talking shadows." 

Valkyrie frowned. "'Talking shadows'?" she echoed. The knot in her gut twisted tighter. 

"Ring any bells?" Darquesse smirked. 

"Shut up. He had nothing to do with this." 

"Are you sure?" 

"He'd tell me." 

"That he was kidnapping vampires and experimenting on them? You put a lot of faith in him. Maybe too much, if you ask me." 

"Piss off, I have a job to do. Go poke Ravel in the face again or something." 

A questioning half-scowl settled on the stray thought's features as Valkyrie walked on past her. "Speaking of backstabbers, you've been acting all backwards towards that one." 

"I'm being civil." 

"Why?" 

"Because I don't want to piss of Clarity. Come on, even you get freaked out by them." 

Darquesse grimaced. "They look at me." 

"So?" 

"I don't think you're hearing what I'm saying, Cain. They _look_ at me. Not _through_ me. _At_ me. They know I'm here, even if they can't see me." 

"You're paranoid," was all Valkyrie said, taking a left turn. The corridor here was oddly silent. Not even her footsteps seemed to have an echo. Her light cast long spasming shadows along the walls, and the emptiness seemed devoid of even dust. Behind her, Darquesse took another step forward, but staggered to an abrupt halt. 

"Something's... off," she whispered, frowning. 

"Paranoid," Valkyrie sang quietly, carrying on. 

"You don't feel that? The energy around here?" 

"Nope." 

Darquesse rolled her eyes. "I don't know why I bother anymore. Go die, see if I care." 

"Good riddance," Valkyrie called over her shoulder, and she kept walking. It probably wasn't wise to be striding into the jaws of possible death at the hands of a creature or person that had the strength to incapacitate dozens of vampires. But if no one had seen anything by now, then it was probably safe, right? 

The moment that thought crossed her mind, a hulking black mass suddenly materialised from the shadows ahead of her and came charging towards her. Pale eyes glowed dead and empty like a hellish shark. She yelled and threw out her hand, but the white lightning glanced off its form and it surged onwards. A club-like limb reached out and swatted her away like a fly, sending her thudding into the wall. Stars burst in her eyes and the impact robbed her of her breath. 

By the time she managed to regain her senses, the corridor was empty, yet hummed with a thick heat that got caught in her throat. On shaking legs, she pulled herself to her feet and lit up a second ball of light. There was nothing to indicate that she'd been attacked aside from a throbbing head and sore ribs. 

"I must be going nuts," she muttered under her breath, and kept going. Before long, she found more cell doors lining the walls. These ones were evidently thicker and more heavy-duty than the previous ones, designed for especially troublesome felons. 

Only one of them was closed. She went for that one, and was surprised to find that it wasn't locked. 

The first thing that hit her was the heat; a blazing wall of energy that crackled around her and sent her pulse racing. The lights above her flared brighter, hungrily consuming the power like starved animals. 

Then she was assaulted by the _smell_. The torrid stench of body odour and blood made her choke, forcing her to stagger out and violently retch before she could get a proper look at what was inside. But with the way things were going so far, she didn't think she wanted to know. 

When she was done trying to expel her breakfast, Valkyrie took a deep breath and managed to steady herself enough to look in. Her lights flickered and distorted the shadows within, but they also clearly illuminated the chair and the person shackled to it. 

And the blood soaking their clothes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come yell at me on my Tumblr: jumpingthroughwindows.


	12. Chapter 11 - Not Invincible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You put him on too high a pedestal, you do. He might just be bones, but he's still human, just like the rest of us.”_  
>  ##  
> Valkyrie still doesn't know where Skulduggery is, but in the meantime, she needs to make sure this stranger doesn't hurt himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Agh, I'm sorry for missing the update last week. This chapter was tougher than I expected, and it's turned out kinda clunky in my opinion.
> 
> Also, I'm not going to be updating this for about a month; I'm going to Cambodia. Don't worry, I'll still be writing, and probably making a cleaner version of this chapter. In the meantime, I'll try to get some stuff queued up on my Tumblr before I leave.

Perhaps the first word out of Valkyrie's mouth should've been a little more elegant than "Shit", but she'd never been one for eloquence. That was Skulduggery's specialty. 

Actually, no. Now that she thought about it, he was just as bad when it came to profanity. Maybe even worse. 

She really shouldn't be thinking about this right now when there was a guy in front of her who looked like he'd just been dragged off the set of Carrie. Thin-limbed and lanky, he was frantically trying to pull his hands out of the shackles, with little success. Blood dripped from the hair that fell over his face, obscuring it in shadows, but she could see the square outline of his jaw in the lights shining over her head, casting shadows over a thin neck with tendons sticking out like cables. 

"Sir?" Valkyrie ventured, taking a hesitant step forward. Her vision flickered for a moment, and she saw a fractured kaleidoscope of searing reds, clawed blacks and flittering violets, all contained by the cruel, colourless ropes of the shackles binding him. 

Panicked eyes gleamed up at her, hollow and bloodshot, their colours lost in the harsh light. The man opened his mouth, but all that came choking out was thick, dark blood. 

Valkyrie swore again, and regardless of the smell and the heat, she strode in towards him. His eyes widened and he renewed his efforts to free himself, but all he managed to do was make the clearly too-tight shackles dig deeper into his red-sodden skin. 

“Take it easy,” Valkyrie said, kneeling down so that she was on eye level with him. Above their heads, her lights flashed fervently, hopped up on the surrounding energy like it was caffeine. “My name is Valkyrie Cain, I'm a detective.” 

Something flickered across his eyes, but it was gone before she could decipher it. He stopped struggling, at least. 

“Do you know where you are?” Valkyrie asked, keeping her voice level. The man looked around him before shaking his head. “Okay then. You're in the Sanctuary; one of the old cells. Just... hang tight, you'll be out soon." 

The man just stared up at her blankly, with blood still dripping from his mouth. She... didn't know what to say, so she stood up and left one of the lights to float around the ceiling. 

"Wait here, I need to get a Shackle-Breaker," she said, turning on her heel and all but running out of the cell. "I need a Shackle-Breaker here! Where's Stikken?!" 

* * *

She was gone and the lights flickered out, leaving nothing but darkness and echoing yells in his ears. Stale copper flooded his mouth, choked him, sent his head ringing with so much _noise, make it stop stop stop_ -. 

Metallic screeches pierced through his skull, forcing a hot, gurgling red out of his throat that dripped down his front. It was so dark. He had to get out. He had to find Ellie and Áine, make sure they were alright. 

 _No, wrong, you're wrong, they... they're... It's my fault... they're..._  

Whatever the voice was trying to tell him, the words weren't coming, lost in a cold haze of fear that made his limbs tremble and his breathing hitch. He would be coming back soon, he knew it. And when he did, it would be nothing but pain and screaming once more, bones breaking into pieces and flesh being torn apart. 

He couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Couldn't hold down the rising terror in his gut. Couldn't stop himself from pitching forward and throwing up a foul substance that had been clogging up his insides like glue. 

Here he was, shackled, bound and bloodied, his ragged clothes clinging to his shivering form. Waiting... 

The girl... that girl, Valkyrie... Valkyrie, she said she'd save him, she said she'd _get him out where is she he's going to come back-._  

And now he was screaming, the broken noises tearing their way out of his lungs like dying animals. He was going to die here, not knowing if his family was alive or dead, consumed by nothing but pain and anguish. 

 ** _"Finish it already... please, you've taken everything, what more do you want?"_**  

 ** _"I want more"_**  

There were tears now. When was the last time he'd shed tears over anything? It felt wrong. Dreadfully wrong for reasons he couldn't bring to the forefront of his mind, but he just knew that he shouldn't _be_ crying in the first place. He _couldn't_. 

Couldn't he? 

The door grated open again, and the pounding in his chest quickened and grew louder until it was a booming cacophony in his skull and _everything hurt_ his eyes, his bones, his-. 

"Hey. Hey! Eyes on me, Carrie." 

 _That's not my name. Wait... wait, the girl._ _.. what's her name... Valkyrie?_  

 _Helpmehelpplease._  

The girl snapped her fingers in his face, and he jolted. "Hey, I'm right here. No need to keep screaming. Are you with me yet?" 

His entire body kept pounding and shaking, but he managed a nod and the girl – _her eyes are far too weary already,_ _she's too young,_ _what has she been through?_ – stepped aside to reveal she wasn't alone. There were people in grey and a brown-eyed woman standing in the doorway, with more flickering lights hovering over their heads. 

"This is Stikken," the girl – _Valkyrie, you_ know _her, why don't you recognise her?_ – said, pointing to the other woman. "She's a Shackle-Breaker, she can get you out of those shackles." 

Shackle-Breaker? Didn't Mevolent have all of those? Wait, no, he died. When did that happen? Everything was so mixed up, why didn't it make sense? 

Wordless, the Shackle-Breaker placed a hand on either shackle around his wrists, biting her lip in concentration. The shackles began to glow with miniscule sigils engraved into their surface, heating up as more energy was poured into them. 

They burned. They were too tight and he could smell flesh burning, heat, blazing all over-. 

He shouted and kicked out at her, catching her between the legs and earning a yell for his efforts. In that instant, the shackles snapped and he shot onto his feet, ready to fight them off, ready to kick and bite and burn-. 

 _Thud!_  

He was on the floor. He'd collapsed. The girl ( _Valkyrie, her name is_ Valkyrie) was immediately knelt down beside him, checking him over, her hands on his shoulders and he was too weak to push her away or stop her from turning him onto his side. There were deep lines along her forehead and a set to her jaw that told him he shouldn't be messing with her. 

"He needs medical attention, take him to the hospital," she said to one of the men in grey. He didn't protest as he was lifted up off the ground and carried away. 

His entire body felt so heavy, like it was made of lead. Everything about it felt… wrong… 

Before he could think about it any more though, he slipped into unconsciousness. 

* * *

Valkyrie watched as the Cleavers carried the bloodied man down the hallway, her brow furrowed and lips pursed in a thin line. Behind her, Stikken was swearing under her breath and rubbing at her crotch. 

“That fucking hurt,” the Shackle-Breaker whined. “You always make me bust out the nutters.” 

Valkyrie didn't say anything. Stikken carried on. 

“You know, that's the only human we've found here,” she said. “What's he got to do with all these vamps?” 

Valkyrie shrugged and made her way out. “He might have been a witness. Taken to keep him from getting word out.” 

“Somehow I doubt you'll be able to wheedle out a witness statement from him.” 

“We’ll just have to hope that he hasn't been screwed over too badly.” 

Stikken nodded. “Oi, you found anything on Pleasant yet?” 

“No. Why'd you ask?” 

“I dunno. Seein’ all the vamps down here got me thinkin’. What if your kidnapper didn't stop with them? Decided to swipe themselves a Skeleton Detective?” 

A chill settled in Valkyrie’s chest, but she ignored it. “He wouldn't let himself get taken that easily,” she stated, not looking at Stikken. 

“Someone was able to sneak several dozen vampires down here without drawing attention. They'd have to subdue them first, and that's _a lot_ of vampires.” 

“Skulduggery isn't a vampire.” 

“You put him on too high a pedestal, you do. He might just be bones, but he's still human, just like the rest of us.” 

Valkyrie kept silent, but at her side, Darquesse was nodding in agreement with Stikken’s words. 

“He's not invincible,” she put forward. 

“I know,” Valkyrie snapped, picking up the pace. “But he's not here.” 

“Don't be so sure.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to get drabbles from my Tumblr, my sp blog is jumpingthroughwindows.
> 
> And if you're interested in my trip to Cambodia, then feel free to watch this video of me getting emotional about it! --> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LhlNdNCe7SU  
> I might make a few more videos over the next week before I leave, so keep an eye out for those if you want to know more about the trip.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the original here:  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11301188/1/Who-Said-Life-was-Easy-OLD-VERSION


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